War and Other Hiatus Themes (For Boneology 30 to 50 chapter challenge)
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: This is a short addition to the 30-, 40-, or 50-word Hiatus challenge. Booth reflects on war and his hopes for the future. Subsequent chapters address the list of themes proposed in the current Bonesology challenge.
1. Chapter 1 War

War

Spring 2017 Booth residence Rockville, MD

"…..and in other news, the American President, German Chancellor, and British Prime Minister have agreed to their joint task force executing more drone strikes over the Syrian desert against the rogue forces in retaliation for their kidnapping of aid workers last week and Corporal Jenkins' squad last month…."

"How much longer is that conflict going to last…? It's been dragging on since 1991…how many more young soldiers will we lose…?" Booth wondered sadly.

"Dad?"

Sighing, Booth grabbed his remote and muted the television as he spied Zach toddling into his man-cave. With his tongue clenched between tiny white teeth and brown eyes squinched in concentration, the little boy determinedly lurched toward his father, a Nerf football grasped tightly in both small fists.

"Ball, dad?" he queried hopefully, as he reached the raised leg rest of Booth's recliner and fell against it.

Roused from his depressing thoughts, Booth smiled. "Sure, sport," he replied quietly. He closed his chair and arose, leaning over to pick up Zach and the football.

He strode up the stairs into the kitchen toward the back door with Zach hugging his neck, walked out onto the back porch and down the back steps into their broad back yard. Carefully setting Zach on his feet and taking the lime green football, he waited for his son to get his balance, walked six feet away, and turned toward the eager child. He gently lobbed the soft football toward his son, and smiled as Zach caught it.

" 'Gain, dad!" Zach crowed. Booth obliged, retrieving the clumsily-tossed ball, and launching it into a slow spiral that came straight to the boy so it was easy for him to capture in both hands.

They threw the ball back and forth a few more times, before Brennan appeared at the door. "Lemonade, Zach?" she called. "Yeah, Mama!" Their son ran to Bones, the ball forgotten in the grass.

Booth leaned down to retrieve it, stood up and gazed out over his lawn. He walked over to a red tricycle, picked it up, and carried it into the garage. He stepped on a small flat rock in the grass, and the arch of his foot ached as it often did by day's end.

Recalling the newscast he'd been watching, he stared into the quickly disappearing sunset. "I hope by the time Zach grows up, the Middle East has settled down, and drone strikes are a thing of the past. I hope they can agree on some sort of peace or détente. I pray my boy and the kids his age never need to go to war and none of them ever face any chance of capture or interrogation or torture or going through what I did in that Iraqi prison…."


	2. Chapter 2 Natural

Natural

A/N: I'm not sure this chapter conforms to the Bonesology formula, but it planted itself in my head, was formulated waiting in the doctor's office, and posted here for perusal if you wish. This story borrows Razztaztic's character Zach as Booth and Brennan's little son. If you haven't read her Roots and Wings, you are missing a real literary treat.

o0o0o0o0o0

The Booth-Brennan family members are big fans of 'natural,' in all its definitions and nuances.

Brennan likes her food natural, organic, and vegan. She like her fruit uncooked, prefers her oatmeal unseasoned.

Booth prefers his Bones' face without makeup and her hair without hairspray. He admires her beauty when she's all dressed up to go out, but his favorite 'look' for his favorite anthropologist is unadorned and 'natural.'

Christine likes to run around the back yard with her hair unencumbered by pony tail holders or ribbons or hair bands, so she can feel the wind blowing through it.

After a bath, Zach loves to escape from big fluffy terrycloth towels and his parents' loving arms, and charge downstairs and through the house as unclothed as the day he was born. He is a much bigger fan of the au naturel lifestyle than Booth or Brennan, who chase him down with pajamas or play clothes, and reassert the need to dress like the rest of the family. "You don't see me or Dad or Christine prancing around naked, do you, Zach?" "No, Mommy, but you should try it; it feels great!" "Zach, come back here, son and get your clothes on; you're not a jaybird!" "O-k-a-y, Dad, but do I hafta? What's a jaybird?" "It's a silly bird who thinks that wearing its feather is a waste of time."

"Booth, why do you fill his head with nonsense? Zach, a jaybird is a member of the family Corvidae, which are noisy songbirds of the Northern Hemisphere." "Wow, Mom, can I look it up on the computer?" "Yes, Christine, after you've had your bath."

But of all the aspects of 'natural,' Booth and Brennan's favorite connotation is as it applies to their family. The close-knit group of friends linked together through their jobs at the Jeffersonian Lab have become a family; unconventional in one sense, but dedicated to one another by bonds perhaps stronger than blood ties, precisely because these connections have been voluntarily chosen by the people they hold dear. The emotions of love, attachment, and commitment to these friends feel more natural for them than their feelings for blood relatives who have drifted in and out of their lives as they saw fit.

Cam, Angela, and Hodgins are perhaps their closest family, but even Sweets and Daisy have become members of their clan, in spite of their occasionally aggravating tendencies and annoying traits.

And between Booth and Brennan, the links of platonic love and friendship which once felt awkward and uncertain, have turned romantic and permanent as they each followed their hearts. And now their bonds of lifetime commitment and deep abiding love feel as natural to both partners as breathing. Their partnership has become their existence.


	3. Chapter 3 Breathing

Chapter 3 Breathing

Breathing…it's what everybody does without thinking to stay alive. It's as natural as blinking your eyes however many times that occurs during a day. So what else is as natural as breathing?

For each person, the activities that become autonomous, depend upon what kind of personality we possess and how we view the world.

To illustrate, Jack Hodgins loves insects, so he delights in and seeks out the chance to explore, observe, and handle creepy crawly things that make most people cringe.

Angela Montenegro has a zest for living which colors all she does. She empathizes with people around her and notices their reactions, moods, and feelings; sometimes before they're aware enough to interpret and respond themselves. And in the case of Bren, Angela alerts her best friend to her emotions.

Dr. Temperance Brennan who is blessed with a superior intellect, eidetic memory, and extraordinary analytical skills, offers people her knowledge without even thinking. She always has ready a pertinent fact about what's happening around her. She can explain anything and people like Parker Booth who take the time to really listen when she elaborates on a subject find great pleasure in leaning from her.

For some people, being considerate of those they care about-friends, family members, children, co-workers and other familiar folks-happens without them thinking much about it.

Special Agent Seeley Booth falls into this category of individual. He tries to help the people he encounters and do the right thing as he lives his life. One of the recipients of this kindness is his partner. From the first time he saw her lecturing in a university hall, he was impressed with her and thought it was destiny that they had met. As they became friends and partners, he expended a good deal of thought and effort on helping Brennan when she was unaware of and oblivious to his concern for her well-being. The longer they worked together, the more he hoped to someday establish a permanent relationship with her. But he restrained himself due to knowing her past experiences with abandonment. Thinking about his partner, how he could protect her, make her life easier, and gradually bring her to trust him became as second nature to him as inhaling and exhaling.

Brennan became aware of their connection more gradually, but her respect and fondness for Booth increased despite her silence on the matter. Her unnerving experience with Dr. Lauren Eames brought those signals from the universe from static into focus, and she 'got the message.' Seemingly too late…but we viewers know better. Hannah disappeared from the scene, the partners stayed their course. Booth's anger and Bones' imperviousness dissolved. Their relationship deepened as time went on until….

Being part of one another was like breathing. Trying to break the laws of physics and become one felt right. Their partnership became so encompassing that they felt like halves of a whole, only complete when together in spirit. Booth and his Bones finally admitted to themselves and each other that 'like' had become 'love' and they needed one another like they needed air. ..to survive, to thrive, to live.


	4. Chapter 4 Breathing, again

**A/N: After posting a hiatus chapter on breathing last night at 1:30 am, I woke up this morning with another idea demanding to be typed and posted here...same subject but rather insistent, so here goes...**

Breathing

Breathing….it keeps us alive….it changes with our situation, mirrors our emotions, and reflects our reactions to life…..

Seeley Booth knows more about breathing than most people.

Maybe even more than his genius partner Bones. While in the service, his MOS (military occupation specialty) depended upon breathing. His success in completing assigned missions depended upon his ability to control that breathing, to let the world disappear from his consciousness and narrow his focus to the tiny circular view presented through his rifle's scope. He had purposefully to relax, slow his breathing, take painstakingly careful and pin-pointedly accurate aim and s-q-u-e-e-z-e his trigger as smoothly as possible. His spotter provided vital information, but the mission's success rested upon his acromia, those broad shoulders his Bones found so very pleasing. Booth is a sniper and breathing is crucial to how he executed his job. (An ironic use of words considering that carrying out his missions involved impossibly long-distance shots-executions of ruthless evil enemies.) And so it was that Booth's mastery of breathing was not only the source of his military prowess, but also the source of his cosmic balance sheet; the guilt he felt at taking lives, no matter how far up the chain of command his brutal action had been approved and deemed necessary.

Any Fan Fiction reader and viewer of _Bones _is familiar with Booth's breathing from another angle as well; his sighs and gasps and shudderingly deep breaths. His sighs can come from his disappointment at Bones' not being ready for a relationship; his gasps from his dismay at the risks she takes in their work. His deep breaths fill those sizeable lungs and expand that handsome chest for a number of reasons—trying to calm down, an attempts to handle pain felt after an injury received in the field, striving for patience in dealing with Bones and her squints, or the FBI's frustrating red tape.

Lately, changes in Booth's breathing have arisen from an additional aspect of his life, one more fulfilling and pleasant than trying to even the score on his mental checklist of murders solved and victims saved to balance the lives he took as a sniper.

Booth's 'happy breathing' became more frequent when Dr. Temperance Brennan lost her imperviousness and he erased 'the line' they couldn't cross. From their first meeting, she adored Pops, the enduring beacon in Booth's life. Unlike Hannah, she quickly valued and loved Parker, the little light and energy spark of Booth's life. All three generations of Booth men loved her in return.

And so it was that Booth's breathing improved dramatically. Laughing until his stomach hurt and he gasped to catch his breath. Anxious breaths of concern for Brennan's welfare during her pregnancy and sudden horse-attended delivery, cushioned in coats and straw. Quiet relaxed breaths of satisfaction holding baby Christine and silently watching her slumber in her crib.

And always, in the silvered moon-lit privacy of night and the rosy glow of early morning, Booth's breathing shared with his Bones in the two-become-one relationship he'd hoped, prayed, and worked for. Gasps of pleasure, deep sighs of satisfaction, lung-expanding gulps of ecstasy as they break the laws of physics because the center has held.


	5. Chapter 5 Walking

Chapter 4 Walking

In the years since Desert Storm, Seeley Booth has walked a lot in many places.

He strode down the aisle of that American University lecture hall toward the attractive scientist clad in a red skirt and floral blouse much more appealing than the cindery skeleton laid out in a display case to which she was gesturing during her lecture.

He has stepped cautiously toward a crime scene alongside his partner, careful to avoid compromising her evidence, and exhorting his FBI crime technicians to do the same.

He has taken the steps two at a time up to the Jeffersonian lab platform, while swiping his ID to ask, "What have you got for me, Bones?"

He has paced in hospital waiting rooms and beside a bed when Temperance Brennan was shot with an ice bullet in the Jeffersonian bone storage room by a crazed co-worker.

He has walked the floor at night trying to calm his colicky baby son Parker and, years later, cuddling his newborn daughter Christine.

He has advanced through dusty Afghan streets, crouched with his gun trigger-ready, toward a house containing insurgents, and down an alley to rescue a translator's son.

Booth has dashed down a dark rain-drenched street to snatch Brennan out of the path of an oncoming car.

He has walked down the aisle of his church, Brennan in tow, to kneel in gratitude for the inspiration and insights which enabled their team to locate a coal mine, running full tilt toward a tiny plume of dust, and digging frantically to free his Bones and Hodgins.

He has trod the flowery paths of the Jeffersonian Gardens to stand before his friend Aldo Clemons as another walk began….Bones coming toward him on her father's arm to take her place beside him, exchanging vows and rings.

He has walked up the sidewalk after Christine's baptism to help Bones back to their car, then dashed forward as he saw her driving away….

Leaving a hospital bed, he has searched an abandoned warehouse to free Bones from Jamie Kenton's crazed threats; and crept silently through an empty power plant toward Pelant and Bones to finally end his convoluted lethal schemes to taunt and ensnare their team.

Most of this time, his feet have ached and throbbed from torturous mistreatment by an Iraqi interrogator…but Booth walks forward, Brennan at his side, seeking justice for silenced crime victims with Fidelity, Bravery, and Integrity.


	6. Chapter 6 Heaven

Heaven

Brennan stood at the kitchen counter, slicing fruit for breakfast. Christine opened a drawer, reached in, carefully counted flatware, and carried the appropriate implements to the dining table, where she dropped the handful onto a placemat. "Mommy, does the spoon go by the knife or the fork?"

Brennan responded, "Knife to the right next to the plate, honey, then the spoon; put the fork on the other side of the plate."

"Which is the right side?"

"The hand you write with, sweetie," Brennan replied. Christine whined, "What's taking Daddy so long at the store? I was already hungry in church and now I'm REALLY hungry!"

"Who knows?" Brennan sighed, "when your father goes for groceries when he's hungry, he'll buy out the store."

"Mommy, where is Heaven?" Christine asked suddenly

Brennan paused in her slicing. "Why do you ask?"  
"Well, Daddy said Great Grand Pops went up to heaven, but I looked up in the sky, and I can't see anything but clouds, so I just wondered where Great Grand Pops could sit. Wouldn't he fall through?"

Brennan chuckled, then hesitated. "Chrissy honey, I think you'd better ask your Daddy more about this. If anyone knows where one Booth man has gone to, it's another Booth man."

The front door opened and Booth appeared, his arms laden with grocery sacks. He dropped them on the kitchen floor, and leaned in for a kiss. Brennan obliged him, then frowned. "Booth, why are you bringing paper sacks in here? You know I prefer our reusable kind; they're in the trunk of your car."

"Sorry, Bones, when I got to the store and looked in the trunk they were missing. I cleaned out the car yesterday and I guess I forgot to put them back in. They're probably in the garage on my work bench. These only used 1/8th of a tree, it won't kill the planet today. We've got a little time before it disappears…."

"Daddy, we gotta take care of the earth," Christine earnestly reminded him.

"I know punkin, I just messed up this morning," Booth smiled down at her. "Can you fold these up, and we'll use them to carry our newspapers out for recycling next week?"

Brennan looked over and caught her husband's eye, rolling hers at him and making a wry face.

"Christine has a question for you about the stability of clouds, Booth. She's afraid Pops doesn't have any safe place to sit."

Booth stared, his mouth open, "Whaaat?"

"Daddy, the teacher at church talked about heaven this morning and I 'membered you said Great Grand Pops went up there, and how do you sit on a cloud?"

Booth leaned over and hugged the puzzled little girl. "Let's eat breakfast and then we'll talk about it."

Brennan, meanwhile, rolled her eyes at Booth again, over their child's head. Booth smiled back, thinking wistfully of how much he missed Pops.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Breakfast consumed, dishes cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, Booth refilled his coffee cup, took Christine's hand and went out the back door to one of the cedar Adirondack chairs he'd bought for Bones on their last anniversary. He sat down and pulled Christine up to settler her in his lap.

"Chrissy, heaven is kind of hard to explain. When Pops died, his body was worn out, so remember how we laid him to rest at the cemetery? His soul or his spirit is what lives on forever, and that part of him doesn't need a physical place like the park or a house to go to. I know the cartoons show guys with wings sitting on clouds playing harps, but that's just made up. It's kind of like how we know that Parker is at Rebecca's, and we're here at our house. We're not together in the same place all the time, but we're still together in our hearts and minds. Pops' soul is with God, and he's here with us, in our minds and hearts when we remember him and love him. God can be everywhere at once, and our souls are kind of the same. I know it's hard to understand, but the important thing is that he knows we love him, and he still loves us back, and helps God look out for us, kind of like our guardian angels. It seems confusing, but let me tell you a story. When Jared and I were young, our mom took us to the circus, and we got separated from her in the crowd of people walking out of the tent. We were both really scared. Jared wanted to go look for her, but something told me to just stay put and Mom would find us. That feeling of what to do seemed to me like my guardian angel helping me out and protecting me. I had to argue with Jared to keep him there, but soon Mom showed up and boy, were we glad to see her. Sometimes now that I'm grown, I've had the feeling that Pops was talking to me in my head, giving me some pretty good advice. That happened when he was still alive, but I was far away from where he lives. It's happened since he's been gone too. I guess you could say Pops is an extra guardian angel for us now. Heaven is where he hangs out with God, but since he's a spirit, he doesn't need to sit on a cloud. I know it's complicated, but that's the best explanation I can give you."

Christine squinted in the sunshine, looked out into the yard, up at the sky, and back at her dad. "Do you think Great Grand Pops gets to play with Splashy my gold fish who died last year?"

Booth hugged her. "Yes, honey, I think he does. Lets' go inside and see what Mommy's up to, okay?"

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

**A/N: Okay, before you start metaphorically throwing theology textbooks at me, this is just an attempt to explain a very complex spiritual matter to a child. No offenses intended to anyone. I once had a young friend ask me about a relative's death, and it was really hard to come up with an explanation to comfort him.**


	7. Chapter 7 Sickness

Sickness

RRRRRing….Max rolled over groggily and reached for the phone on his bedside table. "Hulllooo?" he mumbled into the mouthpiece while peering blearily at the alarm clock beside it…."What the heck time is it?" He wondered to himself….."6:15 am….geeez…..those kids get up early…."

"Dad, could you please possibly watch Christine today? She has come down with a sore throat and the Jeffersonian daycare won't accept her when she's running a fever. I can come home this afternoon, but I have a set of Anasazi remains being delivered from the University of Nevada archeology team that I need to check in, and Booth and I have to interview a murder suspect at 11 am."

"Uh, sure, honey, lemme take a quick shower and I can be over there in 20 minutes." "Thanks, Dad."

Max struggled to sit up in bed and pressed the heel of his hand to his temple." Where did I get such a headache first thing in the morning?" he wondered. "Thank God for Advil…"

Christine's nursery was flooded with early autumn sunlight. He spent the morning reading to and playing with 19 month old Christine whose symptoms had been lessened by a dose of Children's Motrin. She wasn't as active as usual, but seemed to enjoy his stacking her colored blocks and the opportunity to topple them with her tiny fist. She scooted across the nursery floor when she spied her stuffed purple elephant caught between the crib rails, and turned to Max for help rescuing him.

"You want to play with Ellie, Little Miss? Your momma thinks purple elephants are ridiculous now, but when Tempe was 3, a little critter just like yours was her constant companion," Max remembered fondly.

He fed her some applesauce and oatmeal at noon, and she gleefully crumbled more animal crackers on her high chair tray than she fed herself. He rocked her and read Goodnight Moon 4 times before her eyes grew heavy and he laid her gently in her crib for a nap. Returning to the living room, he sat down on the couch, pulled his feet up, turned on his side, plumped the cushion, stuffed it under his head, and dozed off himself.

After Temperance returned home, Max went back to his apartment, took more Advil and slept away the afternoon. He still felt dizzy the next day, and his face hurt. "This is really weird" he thought. I've had sinus headaches before but this is kinda odd. I guess my allergies are acting up this fall." He went to the pharmacy and bought some Zyrtec, but it didn't help his headache much. "Max, old buddy, your age is catching up with you," he told himself in the mirror as he shaved the next morning. "Just gotta go with the march of time," he sighed.

He went to Booth and Brennan's home for dinner the following week, and Bones scrutinized her father 's face over their meal of Carly's Nutmeg Mac and Cheese. "Dad, your face looks puffy, and your eyes are really reddened. Are you sleeping a sufficient number of hours each night for your age?" She quizzed him. "I don't know, Tempe, I seem to have a headache thatI just can't shake. It seems a little different from sinus headaches I had before, and my face is sore. Sounds very strange to say this, but it hurts to brush my teeth. I guess my allergies are really bad this year."

"How long as this been going on, Dad?" "Oh I don't know, maybe a week or so."

"Well, the allergy season this year has been predicted to be particularly mild. Something else may be causing your unusual discomfort. It's not a good idea at your age to be taking chances with your health. I'm making an appointment with your doctor tomorrow, and I'm going with you." Brennan chided him.

"Honey, you don't need to do that," Max protested, but he knew his strong minded daughter meant business.

The next morning, Dr. McNulty took Max's blood pressure, and listened to his symptoms. "Having your face hurt isn't normal, Mr. Keenan. I'm going to run a few tests." After an hour or so, he returned to the exam room. Max it's a good thing your daughter is paying attention to your health. I suspect you have giant cell arteritis, and your blood pressure is elevated."

"What the heck is that, Doc?" Max wondered. "It's an inflammation of the arteries in your face, Dad." Brennan answered her father. "It's propitious that we were able to get you an appointment quickly. You might have had a stroke or lost your eyesight."

Dr. McNulty agreed, "Mr. Keenan, your daughter is right. We'll start you on some corticosteroids. It really is a good thing you caught this early, because it can definitely affect your vision if left untreated."

"Well, I guess I'm really lucky to have a genius daughter who knows the human body so well," Max replied to the doctor, smiling fondly at Brennan.

Back in the car, Brennan fussed at her father. "Dad, why didn't you tell me you were having strange headaches and facial pain?"

"Tempe when I was young, I resembled this actor whose movie girlfriend got cancer and spent all sorts of time in the hospital and ended up dying. It was a really sappy story line. Your mother and I went to see a rerun of that movie at a cut-rate theater, and the similarity of our faces really freaked Ruth out. It had been a pretty popular movie at one time, but your mom didn't like it at all. I had some headaches back then, and every time I'd mention it, she'd get all upset, so I just didn't talk about it much. As I recall, the girl's illness in the movie had started out with headaches. Your mom was afraid it was an omen that I wasn't gonna live long. She was afraid I'd die, and she'd be left to deal with that McVicar gang in Ohio by herself. So I just never mentioned it to her when I didn't feel good, and I guess it got to a habit when I was on the run with no one to talk to."

A few weeks later, his medication had taken effect and Max's symptoms were much improved. It no longer hurt to brush his teeth and he was feeling like himself again. He had dinner again with Booth and Christine at the diner while Bones was working at the lab.

"You seem to be getting back to normal, Max," Booth remarked over their cherry pie. "By the way, what was the name of the movie you told Bones about seeing with her mom?"

"Oh, it was called 'Love Story,' Booth. It had the sappiest line in it…..'Love means never having to say you're sorry.' I had to apologize to Ruth so many times for acting like an idiot. If I hadn't said 'I'm sorry' a lot, she'd have probably left me, I think," Max remembered wryly.

**A/N: I re-watched the Bones episode where Booth calls Max an old rhino, making a play on Ryan O'Neal's name, and it made me think of the old Allie McGraw movie he starred in, so I couldn't resist tying it into this Sickness theme hiatus story.**


	8. Chapter 8 Hair

Hair

It was Easter weekend again, much to Booth's delight. Last year he'd been in Afghanistan and had missed his son terribly, especially on Easter.

While he had to split Parker's time off from school during spring break with Rebecca, she'd always let their son spend all of Easter weekend with Booth, and it had become their special counted-upon time together. They had certain things they always did to mark the occasion. On Friday morning, they'd go pick out new ties at the T.J. Maxx at the National Mall. Its selection was appealing and the prices didn't break Booth's FBI salary budget. They went to church for a brief service Friday afternoon and again on Sunday morning, when they both got all dressed up, wore their new ties, and sang as loud as they could. Other than that the weekend was theirs to relish together. Chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast with more syrup than Rebecca allowed, dyeing boiled eggs, candy hunts and throwing their football at the park. The candy hunts had become shorter as Parker got older, and the football game longer, but he still loved his chocolate marshmallow eggs.

On this particular weekend, the hockey game they watched Saturday night went into overtime, and Booth had to awaken a sleeping Parker to move from the couch to his bed. Sunday morning, Booth arose early, showered, and then woke Parker to dress while he cooked up breakfast. "Gee, Dad, it feels like I just went to bed," Parker grumbled. "Go get showered, bub, I've got your pancakes nearly ready, and we don't want to be late for church unless you want to stand the whole time. If you want to check the candy stash in your basket before we leave, better get a move on," Booth reminded him. Parker ambled into the bathroom, and shut the door.

Flipping the pancakes, Booth heard the water stop running. He set the table, stuck the plate of pancakes in the warm oven, and opened his newspaper to check the hockey scores.

A bit later, he called "Parker, how're you doing in there?"

Through the door came a muffled reply, "Dad, I think I need some help in here….."

Opening the bathroom door, Booth had to stifle a grin. Parker's hair was coated in hair gel….'way too much hair gel…. "Son, what were you thinking? You look like Elvis Presley." Parker moaned, "My hair's always so curly, I wanted to look good for Easter like you, Dad. So I squirted the tube of your hair gel onto my head, but I got too much!" "Ya think?" his dad grimaced.

Booth grabbed a towel and wiped most of the gel out of Parker's hair, took his comb and restyled his son's damp hair. "Okay, I think if you let that dry, you'll look okay. You know, the first lesson on hair my barber dad taught me when I was really small was that 'less is best' when it comes to styling products. You always squeeze some into the palm of your hand, not onto your hair. And not nearly so much," he chuckled.

"I guess I won't forget this Easter, Dad. I thought I was gonna hafta go to church looking like Sheldon on "The Big Bang Theory." Thanks for fixing my hair. I won't ever do that again! Thanks….now can I eat my pancakes? I'm Starving!


	9. Chapter 9 Home

Home…..

Of all the words in the English language, this is perhaps the most precious to both Brennan and Booth.

It's what they each lacked for a part of their growing up; in very different ways, yet with comparably painful results.

It's what Booth feared with his father, regained with his Pops, yearned for with Rebecca, and strove to recreate with, and provide for Parker.

It's what Brennan, trapped in the foster system's impersonal uncaring indifference, perceived as unattainable ever again and therefore rejected as an ephemeral illusion.

After years of unbreakable friendship, spent skirting the issues of personal connections, when prodded by a clueless Sweets, Booth finally thrust; and Brennan parried, fleeing in her desperate need for space.

They each sacrificed their feelings to shield….. to protect…. to guard the other's heart,

And then…after Hannah…..and Hacker…

Threatened by Epps and Broadsky and Pelant,

It's what they sought to provide for each other,

when they'd finally stepped over and eradicated that line

dropping the pretense that they're just work partners

to acknowledge themselves as 'breaking the laws of physics as one' companions

It's what Booth helped Brennan recapture when her father returned,

And what Brennan helped Booth recall when his father died.

What their Mighty Hut became for them,

And what Booth boldly fought to defend

and what its destruction could not erase.

It's what Brennan rebuilt for her Booth when she finally won his release.

It's what they have claimed, and will share for these 30 or 40 or 50 years;

Sheltering Parker and Christine and their progeny.

The product of love born from unwavering loyalty;

The product of family born from enduring friendship and unshakable faith in each another….

A home

Which for each is the other;

Two parts of one whole.


	10. Chapter 10 Blessing

Blessing

Hank opened his eyes as the door to his hospital room creaked. Booth leaned in, trying quietly to see if his grandfather was awake. "Hey, Pops, Bones and I came as soon as Mabel called us. She said Willow River called the ambulance right away also."

Hank huffed disgustedly. "Seeley, you know I hate hospitals, I didn't feel that bad; I just got a little short of breath reelin' in my fishing line when I snagged that last trout. Cocky fish got away, too. Woulda made a nice snack for our pinochle group, the way Doris in the kitchen fries it up."

"Pops, you can't take chances. How's this little peanut Bones is carrying supposed to get to know her Great Grand Pops if you ignore the doctors? We didn't want to bring Parker when you're feeling bad, but he wants to come play dominoes next weekend while Rebecca's out of town. He'll be out of school on Monday, so we can spend all day Sunday with no rush to get back. So you've gotta get your strength back so you can go home to the retirement center by then."

"Booth's right, Hank," Brennan said gently, taking his hand in hers. "This little girl might not have been planned, but now that she's on the way, it's really important to us that she gets a chance to play with you and hear your stories the way Parker has. You've got alot of wisdom to impart to our children."

Hank coughed in spite of his efforts to stifle the urge. Booth jumped up and moved to his side. "Here, Pops, let me raise your bed so you can sit up a little more."

"Galdarnit, Seeley, I can still push a dang button to sit myself up," Pops sputtered indignantly.

"Shrimp, would you go see if the nurse has any apple juice on the floor? She said I need some extra fluids so I could have juice if I want it. A man can only down so much ice water before he's water-logged."

"Sure thing, Pops." Booth strode to the door opened it, and went down the hall.

"Temperance, I want to talk to you. I've been having some trouble breathing at night and I don't want to worry him. I'll keep going as long as I'm supposed be on this earth, but I don't want to be plugged into a bunch of wires and tubes to keep me here past my appointed time."

"I want you to know how dear you've become to me, and how much it meant that you came to visit me all those months while Seeley was off mucking things up with that lady reporter. Your kindness to an old man has really been extraordinary. I'm real sorry that young intern of yours was shot, but I'm sure not sorry you two finally got some sense knocked into your heads and got together."

"Hank, I consider you a very close friend, and…" Brennan began.

"Now sweetheart, let me get my piece said before Shrimp gets back in here. I may not be around much longer, and he puts up a big tough front, but he's a softie inside like his Gran was, and when I go, he's gonna need someone to hug him, hold his hand and let him cry. I know you don't put much stock in marriage, but I don't think he'd ever hold you back from anything you want to do, and I hope you'll be in his life for a long time to come. I hope you guys will stick together for the sake of this little girl you've got coming. Married or not, rings or not, he loves you and I think you love him. If you decide you want it, Margaret's ring is in my safety deposit box and it's yours. It's not fancy, but it held my love for her for 40 years, and it would hold your heart for Seeley, and his love for you, too. Just think about it. You have my blessing no matter what you decide. You're the best thing that ever happened to my grandson, and I'm so glad you both quit dancing around that line and went for the prize. You are good for each other."

Brennan wiped the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

"Hank, I'll always love and take care of Booth, and Parker, and this little one who's on her way. You saved Booth and Jared, when you could have looked the other way and taken the easy road and I'll never forget that. You saved the best man I've ever known. I love Booth and I love you. I only wish I'd had the chance to know his grandmother," Brennan sniffed, smiling at him.

The door creaked open and Booth appeared with a bottle of apple juice and a cup brimming with crushed ice.

"Here you go, Pops. The nurse said she'd be down soon to take your blood pressure again. What did you say to Bones? She's all red-eyed."

"Never you mind, mister. Temperance, can you give me a minute with this grandson of mine?"

"Sure, Hank, I'll go check on your next inhalation therapy treatment. I want to see what the pulmonologist found on your lung x-rays."

"Shrimp, sit down here. I want you to hang on to that girl. She's a keeper, and I hope you know what a treasure you've got. She's as good a woman as your grandmother was, and if you mess this up, I swear I'll come back and haunt you. I won't be around forever, and I can't keep giving you this lecture. And I'm not coming back to repeat it to you either1 Make sure your lady scientist knows you love her; tell her 59 times a day if you have to, and more importantly SHOW her..."

"I want you to know I'm as proud of you as I can be. You've become the finest man I know. You have my blessing to do whatever your heart leads you to do with Temperance, just don't lose her. I know you'd like to be married to her, but if she doesn't see it that way, just leave it be. The important thing is that you have each other and you share a love and a bond anyone would give their eye teeth to find in this world. You've been a good grandson and a better son that your dad was. And I love you." The old man wiped his eyes on his pajama sleeve.

"When I do go, and it's my time, don't feel bad for me. I've had a good long run, and I'm getting tired. Your sweet grandma is up there waitin' for me. When my time comes, it'll be so good to hug her again! Just hold on to Temperance and cherish each other the way your grandmother and I did. And you'll have a great life together with Parker and that sweet baby girl of yours. You and Rebecca are doing a great job raising that boy, and I know you and Temperance will be great parents for this little girl too. You just remember what I said about hanging on tight to that wonderful woman!"

"Oh Pops," Booth choked out. "I love you."

"I know you do son. Me too. Now go find that girl and let me give her a hug before you head back to DC."

**A/N: When I saw the Hiatus prompt "Blessing" Booth's Pops came to mind. Like many other people, I enjoyed The Walton's show years ago and I've always admired Ralph Waite's understated acting skills. It seems to me that John Walton is like Bones. He cherished his wife and family, but almost never went to church as she did. He was 'true blue' like Brennan is; a supremely good individual with a personal disdain for religion. I watch "NCIS" and loved Ralph Waite as Jackson Gibbs. When he appeared in "Bones" shortly thereafter, I was delighted. I assume that the show will deal with Pops' passing away sometime this season. In the meantime, this chapter pays tribute to a great actor and a good man.**


	11. Chapter 11 Share

Chapter 11 Share

"Okay, Bones, we're off to the camp; we'll see you up there later with the kids!" Booth kissed his wife and strode out the door behind Hodgins.

"Bren, thanks so much for watching Michael Vincent this morning. I'm on my way to the farmers' market for salad fixings and vegetables. Having this surprise party at your camp is almost as good as being back home. Jack and Booth have got to pick up the meat for Dad's birthday dinner and the butcher shop is way out of DC."

"No problem, Ange, Christine is excited to have her favorite playmate here. Why do you have to go out of the city to procure meat for your father's celebratory meal?"

"Oh Bren, my dad's a Texan. He's got to have his manly meat. He loves venison and your neighbor up there got a white-tailed deer yesterday morning, so they've processed it and Jack reserved some venison steaks for tonight. When they're prepared right, they're the best tasting food on earth."

"Yes, I've bow-hunted a few times and the Eastern forest tribes ate deer as one of the staples of their diet," Brennan began.

Angela interrupted her gently, "Sweetie, I've must get going; Dad's plane is due in at 2. Michael, you behave this morning and don't give Aunt Tempe trouble at naptime. If you can't sleep, look at your bug book Daddy bought last week." She opened the front door and slipped out.

"Mommy, can I be 'scused? I ate all my oatmeal." Christine asked.

"Me too, Thanks for the toast, Aunt Tempe!" Michael grinned happily."

"That's fine. It looks like you both ate well."

Brennan inserted Christine's favorite Schoolhouse Rock disc into the CD player. She had found that their daughter enjoyed the catchy songs and was partially absorbing the lessons they presented. She remembered the songs from hearing them with Russ, and they brought a smile to her face as she cleared the breakfast dishes

Michael dumped his backpack of blocks, and Christine pulled out a puzzle. Brennan walked upstairs and down the hall to their bedrooms, emptying hampers into a basket as she went and came back down. She went into the laundry room, opened the washer, moved Booth's damp t-shirts to the dryer and started a new load of his colorful socks and her daughter's play clothes. Then back upstairs, she stripped Christine's bed of its rainbow-striped unicorn sheets.

Mommy, can we build a tent with my Froozzed blankie?" Christine yelled up to her mother.

"Yes, Christine, but please don't shout indoors! I'll set up the card table and you can drape these sheets over it before I wash them. They are lighter-weight than the blankets and won't obscure the sunlight, so your tent's not dark inside. And it's 'Frozen' not 'Frozed,' honey."

"I need a tent too," Michael declared.

Brennan looked at him over the load of sheets. "I only have one table, Michael Vincent. You can both inhabit this card table domicile quite easily," she told him.

Fifteen minutes later, Christine called to her mother again. "Can we have a 'nack, Mommy?"

Brennan pulled her hands out of the sink of lingerie she was washing, dried them, walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.

"Yes, you may. Not 'can.' And what happened to 'please'? Here, I cut up some strawberries and banana chunks for you. If you're careful, you may eat them in your tent." Brennan set a plastic bowl down in front of the two. You'll need to come to the table for drinks."

"Aihhheee, you got's more berries than me!" Michael complained. "I don't want just 'nanas!"

Brennan sighed. "Christine, Michael, climb out of there and let me show you something" she instructed the pair. The two kids clambered up onto the chairs by the small dinette table.

Brennan placed two paper plates alongside the bowl. She handed each child a plastic fork. "Now, Chrissy, since Michael is your guest, we'll let him go first."

"Michael, select a piece of fruit." He speared a strawberry.

"Now you, Christine." The little girl stuck her fork into a berry.

"Now you take turns till all the fruit in this bowl is on one of your two plates. That way you'll each have an equal number of fruit pieces. That is the equitable way to divide your snack. There is no need for you two to disagree with one another. Michael, I'm sure your mom has discussed with you the importance of sharing. Christine, you know your dad and I expect you to be fair with your playmates."

"Yes, Mommy."

"Sorry, Aunt Tempe."

The two kids dug into their fruit.

Christine turned a puzzled face to Brennan. "Mommy, what's 'eku-able' mean?"

**A/N: I have to chuckle when I'm writing Brennan's dialogue talking to the kids. Since she she told Booth she doesn't believe in 'baby talking' to them, this is how I imagine she would sound.**


	12. Chapter 12 Jealousy

Chapter 12 Jealousy

Dr. Temperance Brennan had gone to Maluku seeking time and space. Time to think and space to separate herself from the very strong attraction she felt to her FBI partner whose workout-honed musculature and almost perfect bone structure had distracted virtually every thought she'd had since he strode down the center aisle of that American University lecture hall in which she was conducting her class on defleshing methods. She had used her time at the dig for reflection while she delicately unearthed, brushed off, and catalogued the bones and bits of ancient Indonesian culture. She engaged her razor sharp mind in considerable introspection, analyzing her feelings, evaluating her relationship with Booth (work partner or friend or significant other or combination thereof?) With absolute honesty, she had come to acknowledge his vital importance in her life.

Thus she'd found herself immensely relieved when Caroline Julian summoned their team back to Washington to save Cam's job. The Indonesian dig was slated to last a full year, and Brennan had realized this was entirely too long to be away from Booth. He filled her dreams with visions of the life they might share, and her waking hours with questions of why she'd ever thought it was a good idea to leave him for so long, and worrying whether he was staying safe. Despite his promise to her that he wouldn't be a hero, she knew him too well to think he'd not invest his utmost efforts into the military objectives his assignment entailed. Which meant, if people needed saving, Booth would be putting himself in harm's way to rescue them, just as he had done for her.

She'd been so relieved to spot him coming toward her on the National Mall, his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. She knew the moment he saw her by the wide smile that spread across his handsome face. Once they'd bought their coffee and found a bench to share, the same exclamation spilled from both of them, "How are you? I'm so glad you're back safely. How was your time over there?"

Before long, their conversation had turned to people they'd encountered, and Booth reached for his phone. "I met someone! Let me show you!" And the small screen revealed a pretty petite woman with long wavy blond hair. "Her name is Hannah, she's a reporter."

"How did you meet?" "I arrested her!"

A few weeks later during lunch at the diner, its bell dinged as the front door swung open. Booth stared, gasped and then grinned at the entering customer. "Hannah, what are you doing here?!"

Brennan resigned herself to the fact that Booth had indeed moved on, as he's told her he had to. Hannah was a pleasant person, and Brennan made friends with her. When Hannah's leg was injured, she scrutinizes the x-rays and saved her life from bleeding out. When Hannah accused her of failing to bring a hospital gift, Brennan gave up her favorite sunglasses. She suggests to Hannah the housewarming gift, an old school Bakelite phone, she knows will thrill Booth.

Temperance Brennan might not be aware of social media trends, slang expressions, or current television, but her quietly kind unselfish nature seeks the happiness of others. She sublimates her loneliness, compartmentalizes her sadness, to help Booth pursue his dream of 30 or 40 or 50 years of love with someone special. To shield his heart from pain, Brennan implores Hannah to be sure of her feelings.

However, her crushed heart muscle knows its true desire. As if encased in soundproof glass, her mind is shouting "It's so not fair!" in silent protest, admitting her wistfully painful envy that Hannah's gained what she has lost. No matter how hard she tried to bury her jealousy, it was soul-searingly undeniable. "I got the signal, Booth! I missed my chance!"


	13. Chapter 13 Melody

Chapter 13 Melody

**A/N: The Dragon Slayer song mentioned in this chapter came from FaithinBones' story of the same name.**

Dr. Temperance Brennan is not the type of person you'd normally expect to be sentimental about music. However, if you made that assumption, you'd be wrong. Despite her refusal to admit to Max that she remembered their 'trying song' from her childhood, Brennan had vivid memories of standing on her dad's feet as he danced her around their living room singing Poco's song together.

She loved "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" because her mother's praise for her singing had boosted the confidence of a young girl who felt like a geek around most of her friends. She didn't have many good memories of her mother, but this one was as clear as day.

She and Booth had discovered their mutual enjoyment of Foreigner's "Hot Blooded" the night her refrigerator blew up, injuring him. This song was more precious to her than any other because Booth had struggled out of a hospital bed to find and rescue her from Jamie Kenton, ignoring his pain. It personified his dedication to their partner- and friend-ship.

During her pregnancy, Bones had worn an odd contraption which conveyed melodies to her unborn child, and allowed the baby to hear her mother's heartbeat. She loved standing outside the nursery door listening to him croon "Silent Night" or "Puff the Magic Dragon" to Christine. He'd once sung Parker back to sleep after a nightmare with Voltaire's "Dragon Slayer" when she'd first met the little boy, and Booth's fatherly tenderness had touched Brennan deeply.

On Christmas Eve, she relished hearing "In David's Royal City" at midnight Mass with Booth. His goofy love for all things Christmas amused her at first, then warmed her heart more and more as their years of knowing one another rolled by. He sang every Christmas song known to mankind off-key non-stop from Thanksgiving through New Year's and she loved his obsession with the holiday more each year.

The longer she knew Booth, the more melodies she stored among her memories of him. Each came to represent one of the things she loved about him; his tenderness, his fierce protection of those dear to him, his ability to enjoy traditions and holidays in spite of the negatives he'd suffered as a child.

Yes, Temperance Brennan lived up to her earlier name "Joy" by finding it in the songs and melodies that made up her life with Booth.


	14. Chapter 14 Clouds

Clouds

**A/N: This drabble is drivel. But it's cold, icy, windy, and snowy this morning, the roads are treacherous, and I'm anxious for warm weather. Usually by now, my part of the world is heading into balmy spring days, but not this year. **

Booth leaned against the door, carefully balancing the too-numerous grocery sacks he held, and stretched his arm as far as he could. Curling his hand into a fist, he rapped his knuckles against the wood. "Bones, can you open the door, please? ….Christine, honey, open the door for Daddy … Anybody in there?" he called. Silence.

Sighing, Booth fished in his jeans pocket for the door key and let himself into the kitchen. He let the heavy sacks of food and produce slide to the floor. A movement outside the window caught his eye and he turned for a better look. His face lit up at what he saw on the back lawn.

Christine was lying in the grass, waving her arms and giggling. Stretched out next to her was Brennan, pointing at something overhead. She had a broad smile on her face.

Groceries temporarily forgotten, Booth walked out of the kitchen, through the family room, and opened the back door. "Hey, you two, what are you looking at out here? No wonder no one came to help me unload the car; you didn't hear my knocking."

"Oh, Daddy, look! There's a duck up there, flapping its wings. And a girl riding a pony!" Christine cried.

Brennan reached up and caught her husband's hand. "Here, Booth, come lie down with us and watch the clouds. I'll put the food away in a little while. What do you see up there?"

Booth grinned at her, squatted down and maneuvered his long legs to lie down on the grass so that Christine was between them. He shaded his eyes and peered at the brilliant blue sky overhead. It appeared to be filled with huge puffy wads of cotton. "My Gran used to buy big bags of that stuff to fill our sofa pillows. Jared and I laid on 'em to watch TV," Booth mused.

"Those are cumulus mediocris and congestus clouds, Booth," Brennan responded in her best professor voice. "They do resemble large clumps of cotton batting or polyester fiberfill."

"Mommy sounds like she used to when she was teaching college kids," Booth chuckled to Christine.

"No, Daddy, Mommy sounds like Mommy!" Christine objected.

"So, Booth, what do you see?" Brennan asked again.

Squinting up at the sky, Booth was silent for a few moments and then he pointed up. "Look, there's a big fish right there, and an archer over there!"

"Hmmm, so you think Orion traded his huge club for a hunting bow and came to have a look around in the daylight?" Brennan asked with a smile.

"I dunno, Bones, that's just what it looks like to me."

"Well, you two, why don't you conjecture about those clouds a little longer, and I'll go make us some lunch, perhaps some vegetable soup and a kale salad," Brennan suggested.

"Okay, Mommy, can I have a PBJ?"

"No, Christine, you may have peanut butter and honey. It's much healthier than jelly."

"We'll be in to help in a few, Bones. And, hey, don't stumble over the groceries. They're all over the middle of the floor!"


	15. Chapter 15 Fear

Chapter 15 Fear

Jack Hodgins awoke with a start, feeling like something had jarred him out of a sound sleep. Opening his eyes, he realized his wife was sitting bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath. Her hair was damp and her face flushed and sweaty. "Angie, whatsa matter?" he croaked. Boy, his mouth was parched, he needed some water badly.

"Oh, Jack," Angela moaned. "I had the worst dream. I found out I was pregnant again, but the stripes on the test strip were green." "What's wrong with that?" Hodgins mumbled, feeling not only groggy but very confused. "Wouldn't you like to have another little scientist, or maybe a little artist next time? He asked gently.

"Oh, honey, of course I'd like another baby. But that color meant that the baby was going to be born blind. I know we were so lucky to beat the odds with Michael Vincent, but in my dream, bad luck definitely caught up with us. It seemed so real, it frightened me so badly. It was scary enough last time, when we didn't know for sure what to expect. I'm not sure I could handle nine long months of worrying."

"So green isn't a lucky color on a pregnancy test, huh?" Hodgins mused, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. " Are you trying to tell me something? Are we having another baby?" He leaned over, putting his arm around Angela's shoulders and then rubbed his wife's back to soothe her jangled nerves. "Do you want me to fix you a cup of your blackberry currant tea to help you get back to sleep?"

Checking the alarm clock on her night stand, Angela shook her head. "Argh, it's 5:45 already, not much point in trying to go back to sleep now. But I would appreciate that cup of tea, if you don't mind. And no, silly, we're not pregnant, at least not that I know of," she stated.

A faraway look came into her eyes. "It would be nice to have a second child now that Michael is four. I don't think I want them to be too far apart in age," she mused.

"Them who?" Hodgins asked her. "Do you think you'd want a girl this time, or another boy?"

"I don't care which we have, as long as the baby is healthy and there's nothing wrong with his or her eyesight, that's the important thing." Angela declared. "My thoughts exactly," Jack nodded in agreement.

"You know, we have a few minutes before we absolutely need to wake Michael Vincent up to get him ready," Angela smiled slyly at her husband. "We could get in a little practice for making another little Hodgie…"

As he settled back against the pillows with his wife cuddled in his arms, Hodgins had a sudden thought. "You know, we ought to give some thought to what names go well with 'Mamba.'

Otherwise, you never know what even weirder name your father might dream up next time for our second poor baby…!"


	16. Chapter 16 Balcony

Chapter 16 Balcony

Seeley Booth was not a dramatic kind of guy. He didn't particularly enjoy attending plays or the ballet or operas, although he'd taken his girls when Brennan or Christine fancied a presentation like 'Carmen' or 'Sleeping Beauty.' If he had to choose a preference, it would likely be 'The Nutcracker' because it involved Christmas and a great sword fight against the Rat King. He loved Christmas and admired valor.

So balconies aren't really the architectural feature of a building that would come to mind when thinking of Seeley Booth, Brennan mused one day over her latest issue of 'Archaeological Digest.' Yet balconies had featured in more than one negative event in Booth's life.

More than once, he had lain prone on a rooftop taking careful patient aim at an enemy his government had ordered him to eliminate during his time in the Middle East. And frequently, Brennan knew from her familiarity with Persian architecture, his target was standing on a balcony, or inside a room beyond a balconied window.

One of Booth's most agonizing moments had come when Howard Epps sprang out the French doors of her apartment, seeking escape from the agent's sure aim. As Epps vaulted over the balcony railing, her partner's instinctive response and quick reflexes had resulted in him grabbing the weasel's hands to stop his fall. Then, just as quickly, Booth's earlier shoulder injury from the bomb under Carolyn's headless body, had compromised his normally iron grip. And Epps, taunting them like always, had slid out of Booth's desperate grasp and plummeted to his death below. Afterwards, Brennan had doubted that sight would ever leave Booth's memory, triggering undeserved guilt in her friend. Over the years, she worried about the emotional toll their work exacted from Booth, despite the cosmic balance sheet they were successfully 'evening up,' one solved murder at a time.

That is why Temperance Brennan resolved right then to plan a vacation for her family. She knew just the picturesque secluded resort in Mexico that would replace her husband's horrid memories of balconies with pleasant ones. "Well, maybe not erase but at least dilute them," she admitted to herself.

A few evenings later, Booth found a travel brochure on the kitchen counter. "Casa Farolito…What's this, Bones?" "I've planned us a little getaway for Father's Day," Brennan responded mysteriously. "Casa Farolito in Rosarito is on the western coast of Baja California. It's a little bed and breakfast with a pristine beach that I think you and Christine will enjoy. You can do a little surfing or fishing, and she'll enjoy the clean white sand. It's not far from San Diego, so I've made plane reservations for Thursday night. And don't worry, I've already cleared it with Cam and the Director."

Booth stood on the balcony outside their room, his elbows on the railing, and watched the color-streaked sky as the sun set into the ocean. "Wow, Bones, the sunsets here are amazing. I had a great time fishing. My surfing's a little ugly to watch but I guess beginners are always awkward."

"Christine loved watching you; some of your falls were pretty spectacular," Brennan laughed.

"She loved pretending to be Jasmine on the balcony this morning, didn't she?" he chuckled, recalling their daughter's dramatic recitation of lines from the Disney movie she'd watched over and over at home.

"Yes, and you made the perfect Aladdin for her, Booth," his wife responded, wrapping her arm around his waist as she joined him to watch the ocean's rhythm.

"I think I accomplished my objective," she thought to herself, pleased at the success of her idea. "Booth seems far more relaxed than when we arrived, and maybe some of those bad balcony memories have faded for him."


	17. Chapter 17 Breaking

Chapter 17 Breaking

It had been the longest 3 months of Seeley Booth's life.

He had experienced this sensation before.

He'd thought time stood still during several previous periods of his life…

when his mom left and he'd waited at first. hoping she would return home to her sons, trying to reassure Jared that she would,...that she might,…. then finally accepting that she wasn't coming back, feeling guilty, wondering why, what they could have done to make her leave…..

when he had to handle his father's drinking binges alone, without his mother's help, had to endure his dad's inebriated rages and beatings, absorbing the worst of the damage himself, trying to deflect his father's anger away from Jared, attempting to shield his younger brother, sending him down the street to the park at the end of their block until his dad passed out or left the house….

when he'd suffered broken bones and horrific swelling in his feet from fallaqa by Iraqi interrogators during Desert Storm, wondering if he might ever leave the dirty reeking prison cell, if the Army even knew their group had been captured, and if any U.S. forces would be sent to attempt a rescue, if he could survive long enough for them to find him…

when Brennan left for Maluku and he returned to the Middle East, desperate for a distraction, miserably missing her, immersing himself in training Afghanis, trying to forget, to think of anything other than her blue eyes, her smile, her tears, her scent, her curves, her endearing misuse of slang and idioms….

He'd come close to breaking several times during each of these painful nightmares of existence, but somehow he'd always managed to endure, outlast, and prevail over distress, anxiety, and despair….

But now…..

With Brennan on the run, off the grid, hiding from the law to protect their daughter and herself,

Booth was on the verge of giving up…He worked tirelessly to clear her name as best he could without the benefit of being an active FBI agent. He was desk-bound, and under continual scrutiny at work and at home, followed wherever he went, watched whatever he did.

He spent every waking moment wracking his exhausted brain for another angle to investigate, another detail to re-check, anything he could have missed which might serve as proof of Brennan's innocence, that she had no part in the cruel horrific murder of her friend Ethan Sawyer.

Nothing alleviated his constant state of empty lonely pointlessness. Without his Bones, he felt numb, slack, mentally and emotionally flattened into oblivion…

He knew Angela was doing all she could, yet he found himself incredibly furious at her for somehow communicating with Bones when he could not, and refusing to explain it.

Intellectually, he knew Max was right to insist his daughter disappear. Booth understood all too well how vulnerable she would become if incarcerated. If Christopher Pelant to make Brennan appear on a videotape one evening when she'd never been near the asylum, what unimaginable evil havoc could he wreak upon her once she was behind bars.

He'd prayed, longed, hoped, sobbed for her name to be exonerated so she could return to him with their baby daughter.,,,

He had felt himself nearly snapping under the pressure he felt. Then one day, an eerily precise unearthing of a skeleton broke open a message, cast a ray of light and hope into the conundrum of proving her innocence…

With help from friends and from unseen powers that Brennan would vehemently deny believing in, finally at long last, he caught a break. He called Cam, declaring his drive to Atlantic City.

In a shabby two-bit motel room, he waited, listening intently, gun in hand. A shuffle outside, the door inched open, an unfamiliar blonde head peered cautiously around its edge.

Lurching, he tackled the intruder to the floor, rolling over and over in a struggle for dominance.

Suddenly he stared into a pair of familiar blue eyes….staring back at him….

His Bones was there in front of him, well, really, under him.

With a little more help from friends, Bones was spirited into her lab and wrought her magic vision, knowledge and insights upon the ravaged innocent bones…...

His Bones was cleared by the clues she discerned.

Instead of Booth breaking, the stalemate of Pelant's deception was broken.

Like a storm-ravaged sapling, Booth had bent under the pressure of the onslaught, but didn't crack, didn't splinter.

Pelant's devious evil couldn't destroy or crush or shatter the spirit of his adversary. Angela's work, Cam's instincts, Hodgin's genius restored his hope, his family, his life.

And time started moving again, his heart started feeling again, his dream existed again.

**A/N: This was my least favorite period of Bones, and the hardest prompt to write. Gee, I'm glad that one's done! **


	18. Chapter 18 Bonds

Chapter 18 Bonds

**A/N: This chapter is a somewhat different take on this particular one-word hiatus prompt. Not sure if I succeeded, would love to hear reviews of your opinions.**

**Bonds…**a simple five-letter word…..with many different connotations.

Brennan mused as she looked at the scrapbook which was perhaps the most precious wedding gift she and Booth had received. It came late, but it was very significant and meaningful to her, nonetheless. Family bonds were very important anthropological links among relatives and generations of human beings. Bonds and connections in her own life of which she had been unaware until very recently.

Her Florida aunts, Esther, Judy, and Lydia, her mother's gregarious sisters had painstakingly collected a number of old pictures from their side of the family. It was a window into her past which Temperance Brennan was too young to recall on her own. There were faded Brownie snapshots of Ruth as a child with her sisters, school pictures dated below the smiling faces, Polaroid picture strips of her mother and Max taken at a 25-cent photo booth, wedding pictures of various couples in the family, copies of stiffly-posed formal portraits of Brennan's grandparents. She had only been able to meet Mema, her mom's mother on a crime-solving trip to Florida when she discovered her clan and their roots. The other grandparents had long since passed away. There were even a few pictures of Max as a child, as a lanky teenager, and one of his parents on their wedding day. With her anthropologist's keen eye, Temperance Brennan could spot the family traits passed first to Kyle and Joy, and on to her own daughter Christine,

There were no pictures of Ruth and Max after they moved to Ohio and dropped contact with her family. Their time as a young married couple before they had children was completely lacking in photographic evidence, without any visual documentation for their anthropologist daughter to analyze. Ruth's sisters had said she wrote carefully-worded letters but never sent photographs.

The reason for this, Brennan reflected, was another kind of bonds. Totally different from those of a family. Her parents had skillfully stolen investment bonds from bank lock boxes during their years as white-collar criminals. These financial bonds had prevented them from living a completely normal life. Her parents had hidden in plain sight with false identities. Once they had children, their stealing ceased to protect them. The children had new names. Not a problem for Temperance, too little to remember the change or know the difference. But a life-changing event for her brother. At seven, Kyle was suddenly ordered by his stern-faced dad to forget his name, to learn a new one "Russ Brennan" repeated over and over until it stuck in his head. His dad demanded "You swear on your baby sister's life that you will never reveal this, or it will kill you both!" Suddenly his mom was a bookkeeper, his dad taught science at the high school. And they never saw any relatives ever again.

Brennan had a very few pictures of herself as a child, Christmas morning in pajamas, a family picnic, her teenaged brother showing off his souped-up car. And suddenly, one Christmas, the bonds between parent and child, brother and sister dissolved in a matter of weeks. Her parents were gone, her brother drove away, she was alone. The bonds blew away like dry wintered leaves.

To protect herself, Temperance recalled, she chose to reject bonds of any sort!

Brennan decided she needed no family or emotional bonds, no links, no connections to anyone. She would build herself a solitary life, surrounded by homework, and textbooks, and knowledge and mental acuity. Emotionally, she turned inside herself to survive, armored herself against betrayal and hurt. She sought shelter in study and intellect. Along the way, she suffered bonds of foster child abuse; locked in a car trunk, ridiculed, relocated, rejected.

Finally age and graduation gave her independence. But no freedom from financial bonds of earning her way. How to provide for herself and survive? Again, her mind was her tool. Scholarships, scanty food, part-time jobs, one semester at a time, she pulled herself up the university ladder toward advanced degrees, since knowledge, intellectual achievement and scholastic acclaim would release her from bonds of worry and want.

Even though she'd become accomplished, highly-educated, successful and globally-renowned, Temperance Brennan shied away from emotional bonds. Romance and love? She scoffed at these concepts as foolish.….reduced them to mere biological imperatives, human instincts, natural physical urges. The spiritual realm? Hogwash! B.S.! Nonsense!

But then, Tempe smiled to herself,

She met Angela, a blast of fresh air, an artistic talent, questioning, teasing, laughing…a bohemian girl who gave her something she'd lacked for so long….a confidante, a fun-loving comrade, a sprite who dragged her to party for the heck of it (woo-hoo!)

Angela gave her the feeling of feminine closeness, of platonic companionship and love. Angela had wiggled her way into Brennan's world, ignoring her academic rants, a bouncy irrepressible spirit who gave her an ultimate gift…the bond of friendship.

And THEN, Brennan grinned to herself, hugging herself mentally, remembering with fondness and glee,

Thanks to the suggestion of another sophisticated woman, another well-educated doctor, very astute, very subtle, very wise: Camille Saroyan-

A handsome, cocky FBI agent threw open the heavy doors of the staid university hall, charged down the aisle, interrupted her lecture, questioned her beliefs and credentials, challenged her carefully-constructed parameters of intellectual homeostasis and peace.

Seeley Booth upset her metaphorical apple cart of rationality, reason, and calm.

He and Parker showed her the fun of believing in Fate, the irrepressible bond between parent and child, the joy of tossed footballs, crunching through leaves, running through parks and sunshine, falling into cold powdery white drifts to form snow angels…..

And FINALLY…Bones admitted silently, tears in her eyes, romance in her heart, a hero in her life…

Temperance Brennan rediscovered what a treasure the right kind of bonds can be….

Those of love, and lifelong commitment,

Of tender sensuality, becoming one from two, challenging physics,

Recreating Plato's four-armed, four-legged, two-faced, self-mirroring, metaphorically spiritual being.

She and Booth had truly spent years trying to complete themselves,

And finally admitted to each other (and everyone else) that they'd already done so.

They already shared an unbreakable bond; that of partners in every sense that they could possibly be!

The bond of soul-mates!


	19. Chapter 19 Weddings

Chapter 19 Weddings

The lab was quietly abuzz.

Arastoo had proposed to Cam. Despite being nervous about the prospect, she'd met his parents several months ago and found them delightful. The senior Mr. and Mrs. Vaziri were very fond of Cam as well. And so, the astute careful coroner had accepted her handsome Persian's exquisitely beautiful Farsi poem of proposal (translated of course.)

The rules governing Jeffersonian employees did not preclude spouses from working together, which Hodgins and Angela had done quite successfully….well, except for when Cam had to shoo them back to the museum nursery with little Michael.

Brennan found herself musing about weddings while she carefully reconstructed the shattered skull of their latest murder victim who'd been bludgeoned to death by some sort of heavy rectangular object; she suspected a length of angle iron.

While she would never compromise her examination of bones by daydreaming, Brennan had pieced together so many skulls over her career that she could solve the jigsaw puzzle of these bone fragments in her sleep or blindfolded.

And so she let her mind wander a bit….

She remembered Angela and Hodgins' zig-zaggy road to the altar. A federally-interrupted wedding ceremony had torn them apart for a time, but hours in a jail cell with frank conversation had led them back to the truth of their love, and they'd gotten "hitched" right then and there. (And thank god Cam had retied the bow of that violet dress correctly for her!)

She thought about how long it had taken for her to trust Seeley Booth's promises that he'd never leave enough to admit her love for him. Her eventual belief in his vision and a little hop of faith had allowed them a soul-deep relationship, memorable garden wedding, and lifelong joy together.

She mulled about her parents' marriage relationship. For her, the circumstances of their wedding were unknown, but she had witnessed the strong bonds of love and commitment Max and Ruth had shared. They had loved each other and their children fiercely and sought to protect them from a sudden violent threat, however badly the aftermath of that fateful decision had turned out for her.

She'd never had the chance to meet Booth's Gran, but she knew from Pop's stories of his Margaret that their 1941 wedding had been the start of a very happy life as husband and wife, and how much the old man still missed his bride.

Her mind wandering among generations prompted a thought of the future. Parker wasn't as yet quite old enough for a wedding but she had no doubt that his solid upbringing by Booth and Rebecca would stand him in good stead when the time came, and he would become a wonderful husband for some very lucky girl if he chose to enter into marriage.

She chuckled to herself, that since Booth declared he didn't want Christine even looking at boys until she turned 30, he probably felt that Parker ought to delay his wedding for years to come as well. But the young man would most certainly set his own path despite dear ole' Dad's hesitations.

And then her maternal mind turned to the little daughter she and Booth shared… Christine. Despite her years of scoffing at the institution of marriage, Brennan had come to know that, if it involved the right two people, well-suited for one another, linked by love and friendship, marriage could be a wonderful and amazing experience. She couldn't say that she 'hoped and prayed' that Christine would find the right mate, since she didn't believe in prayer, but she knew that Booth did believe and most likely included that request in his private churchy conversations with the "Almighty" "Man Upstairs."

But Dr. Temperance Brennan did hold that strong hope for her daughter to know the intense kind of connection, relationship and happiness she shared with Booth. She wanted for her daughter all the best in life. And this might just include a wedding that thrilled her heart (no matter what sort of ceremony that might entail) and, much more importantly, a love which spanned decades "30 or 40 or 50 years, Bones!" her heart and soul entwined with a man as fine as her beloved father. A man who knew Christine was "the one."

"You see an older couple, Bones, and when you ask them, it's always the man who says "I knew! I knew she was the one I'd share life with…!"

As she carefully spread Elmer's Glue on the last triangular fragment of skull and painstakingly nudged it into place, Brennan smiled to herself…..

She looked up to see Cam entering the Bone Room. "Dr. Brennan, wow, look at that, you got all those tiny fragments all back together. It never ceases to amaze me how you accomplish that! Quite a feat!"

Then Cam changed the subject. "Temperance, I don't know how you'd feel about this, but I'd like to ask you to be my matron of honor," her boss and friend said happily.

"Cam, I'd be honored!"

"Oh! If you're having a traditional Persian ceremony and need help composing your wedding vows in Farsi in order to keep them a surprise for Mr. Vaziri, I'd be happy to assist you in that endeavor, as well. I'm quite proficient in Farsi, you know," Brennan offered.

"No, Dr. Brennan, I didn't realize that. We can consider that later, I think. That's very kind of you to offer. Thanks for standing up with me. I'll let you get back to work," Cam responded.

As she walked away, she muttered to herself, "I guess I'd better make sure our vows are in English, so I know what I'm agreeing to. I certainly don't want to learn after the fact that I'm required to become part of a harem someday!"


	20. Chapter 20 Quiet

Chapter 20 Quiet

Booth was on a stake-out again. But this one was miserable. And far too quiet. His partner, his Bones, was not beside him. Not there to share a cup of coffee while they waited and watched. Not there to quietly compare theories about what the suspects' motives were, or what they might be up to, or what might be delaying their rendezvous for which the pair were on alert….

So while he sat in silence, Booth thought back over the few times of silence he had experienced with Brennan. Usually, they were engaged in conversation; discussing their current case, or Christine's latest brilliant achievements and entertaining antics, or Parker's latest hockey game, science project, test score, or when he might be allowed to spend the weekend with them again. Frequently they debated or differed in their view of a situation, bickering, Angela called it.

Booth's nights were far too quiet. No baby gurgles on the monitor, or gentle laughs or gasps of love, or murmurs of satisfaction, or breathy little snores from his partner. He took to sleeping in Parker's room, unable to lie in their bed without stark loneliness, stinging tears, the ache of missing her touch, her scent and her drowsy presence beside him.

No, this was a different kind of silence, a different sort of stake-out, for a very different reason. This Friday night, Booth was on a stake-out... in his own house…..again.

Bones had been gone, living off the grid for nearly six weeks. Ever since the moment she'd driven away from the church after Christine's baptism, Booth had been wracked with anxiety for her safety, yearned to talk to her, know she was okay, communicate _somehow! _

And much to Booth's amazement, the ever-resourceful Max Keenan had given him a way to do just that.

The second Friday evening he had come home alone, exhausted from work and worry, Booth had noticed something odd about the way one of his old blue sofa cushions felt. He had plunked himself down to watch a Flyers game, without his usual enthusiasm. But he couldn't get comfortable for some reason. Flumping around, he realized it was strangely lumpy. He pulled the cushion from under his rump, moved to its mate, and leaned forward to examine it. The zipper pull tab was skewed a bit. He'd never undone them, so he was suspicious. Sliding it open, he felt inside. A small flat cotton-wrapped bundle was concealed there. A burn phone fell into his hand and a tiny scrap of paper fluttered to the floor. "Uz 1c MK, dstry" it said cryptically. Booth slipped it into his boot, zipped the cushion closed and returned his attention to the hockey game.

An hour later, he went into the bathroom and locked the door. There were no windows in here. He pulled out the phone, said a quick prayer, held his breath, and turned it on. Much to his delight, a message appeared. "Booth, we r fine. Luv &amp; miss u. Will try 2 get one of these 2 u now &amp; then. Crush 1c u'v responded." Quickly, he typed, "I lv u, miss u, hug C 4 me." He waited a few minutes, but no answering text came back. So he took it apart, placed it under the bath mat, and ground his heel into it until the fragments were tiny enough to flush down the stool.

How in the devil had Max broken into their house without being seen? What a wily yet caring rascal! He had guts and daring beyond most men decades younger.

Ten days later, pulling weeds in Brennan's vegetable/herb patch, Booth felt an oddly-rectangular edge to a root he was trying to unearth. He grabbed a handful of dirt and leaves, and deposited it in his garden cart, along with the dandelion stems and crabgrass he'd pulled. Once in the garage, he secreted it in his pocket, emptied the bin, and pulled more weeds for another hour. Once in the house, he repeated his furtive messaging ritual with relief to hear from Bones and regret that his girls weren't home. Leaving each phone on for only a few seconds and crushing it into oblivion mostly insured they'd escape detection.

Eleven days later, Booth took the afternoon off, left his SUV at the Hoover, took a cab home, and spread out on the coffee table the files he'd brought to work on. He read and made notes until sundown, and then moved into his bedroom, where he sat on a chair in the waning light, waiting. Here he sat, on a self-assigned stake out to see if he could intercept the cell-phone-depositing Max. He waited until 11 pm, but no Max. No stealthy rustle of a key in the back door lock, cautious creeping footsteps through the kitchen. He knew the older man could pick a lock, blend into his surroundings, hide in plain sight. Grimacing in frustration partly because he missed Bones' brief texts but also because he'd wanted to thank Max for his cleverly-concealed kindnesses, Booth gave up and went to bed.

The next morning, Doris, his favorite waitress handed him a paper bag with his coffee-to-go. "Harry thought you could use some bagels, Agent Booth," she smiled, referring to the Royal Diner proprietor. Booth thanked her gratefully, and waved at Harry, who stood at the grill behind fluttering breakfast order pages clipped in front of him.

Once seated in the SUV, Booth took a careful sip of the scalding hot coffee through its slit-top lid, and reached into the sack for a bagel. Amid the pastries, he felt a flat phone-shaped object. It took his best poker face/gambler bluff/undercover Buck-Boris-Tony-restraint to keep from grinning like an idiot. He grabbed a bagel, took a few bites, stuffed it back in the sack, and jammed the bag into his console. That morning in his office d-r-a-g-g-e-d by. Lunch time _Finally_! He drove to Rock Creek Park, found an empty parking lot to pull into and turned off his engine. He sat for awhile, checking the rear view mirror, insuring that he was alone. Then he retrieved the bagel sack, spread cream cheese on a bagel, and chewed on it impatiently. At last, opening a bottle of water for a swig, he reached into the sack for the phone and turned on his treasured find. A message from Brennan appeared under a picture of Christine. It was taken without showing any of the room she was in, only a close-up of her sweet baby face and happy little smile. Even so, Booth could tell that she'd grown. Destroying this phone was the hardest thing Booth had faced in a long time. He stared at the picture, burning it into his memory, and gritted his teeth as he stomped on the phone and battery and scattered its pieces across a patch of dark shaded forest. Lord, how he missed his Bones and Chrissy.

A week later, Saturday evening found Booth mowing the lawn. He'd scrutinized the surface of the lawn, the flower bed edging, the underside of the tree swing seat, the ladder to Parker's tree house, and every other nook to no avail. Finally, he climbed up to the tree house and sat there to watch the sunset. In one of the cubby holes Parker had requested, he found an old bandana wadded up. His spirits rose just a bit. Sure enough, another burn phone, a loving message which he could answer, soothing his heart for a moment. Then it went into his sock, into the house, and up to the bathroom to perform another stomp dance.

That night in bed, under Parker's Iron Man sheets, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Bones had stuck to the ceiling for his son, Booth sighed. He closed his eyes, mentally pictured his girls, said a prayer for their safety, more patience, and discoveries that could clear Brennan's name. Then, turning on his side and squashing his pillow, Booth waited in the lonely dark quiet for uneasy sleep to overtake him and erase one more night before his family came home.

A/N: To me, one of the saddest scenes in the Bones series is Booth sitting on the church steps, staring up at the sky, Christine's empty car seat on the sidewalk below. I loved "Once Upon A Summer" by Razztaztic. This chapter is a another slant on the same period of time, hopefully, different enough not to step on the toes of her genius writing. As far as I'm concerned, Harland Parrish is one of the most entertaining characters around. And Max, for all his faults and past mistakes, is just as protective of his family as Booth is, possibly more.


	21. Chapter 21 Comfort

Chapter 21 Comfort

A Saturday morning, sometime in the future. Christine is a sophomore in high school.

Christine came downstairs with her AP History book under her arm. "Dad, I'm supposed to write an essay on Desert Shield. I thought it was called Desert Storm. What's the diff…" She stopped her question in mid-sentence. Her normally exuberant sports fan father was seated on the couch staring out the window, paying no attention to the Flyers game in progress on the television. She waited for him to respond, but he obviously hadn't heard her enter the room. Christine watched him for a few minutes, silent. She approached the back of the couch and put her hand on Booth's shoulder. "Dad?"

Booth startled at her touch and turned to look up at his daughter. He surreptiously swiped his knuckles across his cheeks. "Sorry, honey, I didn't realize you were there. What did you ask me?"

Christine looked more closely at her father, and realized he had tears in his eyes. "Daddy, what's the matter? Is Mom okay? Parker? Hayley?" she queried, concern in her voice.

"Oh, honey, everyone's okay," Booth assured her.

"Then why were you crying? What's wrong?"

"I'm just missing Pops. For some reason, when the National Anthem started, it made me think of when he used to watch Flyers games with me sometimes when he wasn't working Saturdays. It just reminded me of him, that we can't do that ever again and I just wish he was still around…" Booth sighed.

"Oh, Dad, I'm sorry!" Christine moved around the couch, sat down, and reached over to hug her father. "You want me to call Mom at the lab? She said she needed to re-examine some bones, but she told me it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours. She's probably about done by now."

"No, no, we don't want to get between Bones and her bones," Booth declared. "You know what we could do, though? Fix lunch before she gets home. You could help me make some grilled cheese sandwiches like Pops used to when I was a kid. He told your mom and me once that he learned to make them during the Battle of Inchon in the Korean War. Said the American cheese they used reminded the soldiers of home. I guess grilled cheese sandwiches were the original comfort food! Your mom loves them as much as I used to. Still do, actually." He got to his feet and started toward the kitchen.

Christine just turned and looked at her father wryly. "Dad, you think I haven't had one of Pops' grilled cheese sandwiches? Parker used to make them for me all the time when he babysat me while you and Mom went out. I thought Parker made the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the world."

"Yeah, well, he learned how straight from Pops. They used to make them when Parker was little. He'd get the bread slices out of the sack and lay 'em on the plate while Pops sliced the cheese. Then he'd peel up the cheese slices off the plate and hand 'em to Pops. Kept him busy so he didn't get close to the hot skillet and burn his fingers."

"Oh, Dad, speaking of Inchon, that reminds me why I came downstairs in the first place. I need some help on my AP US History essay for Monday."

"Sure, honey, let's get lunch ready first, and then I'm all yours!"

"I wish Pops had lived longer, so I could've gotten to do that too. I never had much chance to get to know him very well," Christine mused sadly.

"Oh, Chrissy, Pops was so happy when your mom and I told him you were on the way. He was so excited to have another great-grandchild! And the first time he saw you, I thought he was gonna burst with pride. He was so thrilled Bones and I'd had a daughter. Said he'd finally gotten his little girl, and he was gonna spoil you rotten. When you got a little bigger, we took you with us to visit Pops at Willow River. He was so proud of you, and all the little old ladies at the retirement center wanted to hold you. Of course, your mom took a dim view of that, worrying about germs and such," Booth recalled fondly. "Once you were a toddler, though, she was pretty good about letting them sit you in their laps for a few minutes. Pops even baby-sat you a few times for us before you started kindergarten. We didn't really need him to, but he just loved having you to himself for a little while. So we'd go get lunch in town a few miles away, and bring it back to eat with Pops at the center."

"I sort of remember being there," Christine said. "I think his room was on the second or third floor, and I loved in riding the elevator. I was fascinated by all the buttons on the control panel. Pops would lift me up so I could hit the button for his floor. He always had some candy hidden away for me. Said it was our secret, and not to tell Mom."

"Oh, your mother knew, but she also knew it delighted Pops to treat you to some goodies. So she never said anything, just let him have his fun with you. He was quite a character. We once had to take him with us on a case to a place called 'Club Jiggle.' We told him to stay put at a table while we talked to some employees, but the next thing we knew, he was up dancing like he was 40 not 79," Booth recalled, laughing.

"He had a long life, 85 years, but it never seems long enough to the people who love someone," he finished quietly.

"I know you must miss him a lot, Dad," Christine moved to put her arms around her father.

"Yeah, I do. I'm glad I've got you around to give me hugs. You're getting tall enough, you don't hardly have to stand on your tip-toes anymore to reach my neck, honey. I'm just as proud of you as Pops was. Now that Parker is living in L.A., you're a real comfort to your mom and me. Maybe you should think about going to American University when the time comes to choose a college," Booth said.

"I don't know about that, Dad. I think I want to go out of state. I'm not staying home forever!"

**A/N: We're halfway through this dang hiatus. I'm getting antsy. I hope they pay some tribute to Ralph Waite's character. I'm kind of surprised they didn't deal with Pops' passing away in the earlier part of this season, but then I don't know how far ahead of episodes airing their filming schedule is. At any rate, I'm tired of waiting!**


	22. Chapter 22 Kiss

Chapter 22 Kiss

Once Brennan finished nursing Christine, she stood up from the rocker and walked carefully from the nursery into their bedroom where Booth sat leaning against the headboard of their bed, reading a magazine amid large fluffy pillows cushioning his back "Come rock her so she can burp, Booth," she said softly.

Booth spent the next half hour rocking back and forth, patting his daughter's back, her downy head tucked under his chin. His heart rate slowed with the relaxing motion of the glider. The baby had fallen asleep, and he was about to doze off as well. Placing Christine on her tummy in her white crib, Booth leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. The feel of her velvety soft baby skin against his lips was something he had missed very much over the last three months. Holding his children in his arms calmed him like nothing else could. He thought it had to be the most peaceful experience of human existence. He covered her with a green and white cotton frog print blanket, and left the door ajar.

Stepping across the hall, he knocked on Parker's closed door. Hearing no sound from within, he opened it silently and looked in on his son. Parker had fallen asleep reading a Goosebumps book. Another paperback, Captain Underpants, had fallen to the floor beside his bed. Booth retrieved it and chuckled to himself. Parker might excel in the Jeffersonian's kids' after-school science program, but his reading tastes were still decidedly immature. Bones had tried to interest him in reading Shelley's Frankenstein with her, but it was still beyond him. They _had_ done Robinson Crusoe together. He guessed that was a start. He straightened Parker's covers and kissed his tousled blond hair. "Geez, the kid's hair has gotten long. He looks like Chewbacca. Rebecca's current caseload must be taking all her time. I 've gotta take him with me to the barber in the morning," he decided. Booth turned off the bedside lamp and stepped quietly out of the boy's room, closing the door. He leaned against it, closed his eyes, and breathed a silent prayer of thanks that his interactions with Rebecca was so much smoother than they once had been. He deeply appreciated her letting Parker spend more weekends with them. "I'll remember to thank her again when I drop him off Sunday night."

Booth went downstairs and made his nightly circuit of their home, checking doors and window locks, and scanning the backyard through the curtains. He checked the front yard through the partially open plantation shutters, and made sure the porch and yard lights were on. Even though his family was back home, he'd never stop his vigilance on their behalf.

He walked back upstairs, avoiding the squeaky one that could someday alert him to a broken curfew and grinned to himself. Back in their bedroom, he changed his clothes and brushed his teeth. Brennan closed her "Developments in Forensic Techniques" journal and smiled at him as he slid under the covers toward her. He touched her face and kissed her. Her lips parted and she answered his gentle invitation to ardor…..

Much later, as his Bones lay sleeping beside him, Booth stared at the ceiling in complete contentment. His girls were safely back home, and he could kiss them both as often as he liked. He rolled on his side carefully, so as not to wake her up, and kissed her again.

In the morning, he would tease Christine with raspberry tummy kisses, hug Parker tightly with a kiss on his forehead, and kiss Brennan all over again…..all over.

**A/N: I'm interjecting a bit of my own feelings into Booth's brain in this drabble. I've nursed, burped, rocked, and nuzzled my four children and the sensation of a tiny head nestled beneath my chin is one of the sweetest a mother can know. My husband has said he feels the same (well except for the nursing part. He is, however, an expert at burping.)**


	23. Chapter 23 Soft

Chapter 23 Soft

A/N: First off, on a personal note: Many thanks to jsboneslover and GuestJD (who don't have FanFiction profiles) for their descriptively-positive reviews. I appreciate you letting me know what you like in various chapters. Since I'm new at this, it helps me improve. Other kind readers' anonymous reviews are also very welcomed. I never figured out how to do that. The many genius writers on this site deserve my gratitude for hours of reading enjoyment.

Soft

Booth opened one eye to the rays of sunshine slanting through his blinds. The fluorescent lights spelling 'Liquor Store' outside were turned off for another day. With the neon script just beyond his apartment windows, he'd never needed night lights for Parker when he was little, he mused half-asleep.

He opened the other eye. … and smiled broadly to himself. Next to him a beautiful woman was snoring softly. Though she'd never admit it nor appreciate his mentioning it. _Bones_. _His Bones_. That comment she had eventually come to tolerate, after prolonged sputtering about him being an overly-possessive alpha male, because she realized it meant how much he loved her, he couldn't believe she loved him back, and they were finally together.

It was Saturday morning, and they had the whole weekend to enjoy with each other!

Since she appeared to be very soundly asleep, Booth indulged in one of his favorite pastimes. Watching her when she was unaware of it. Her lips, her cheeks, her hands, her feminine curves, her hips; all so very soft. He loved to rest his head on her chest, to cradle her in return, to pull her as close to his side as was humanly possible. He knew her softness covered steel: her determination and resolve, her fierce protective love for anyone she allowed close, her strong bones and flexible well-honed muscles.

Temperance Brennan was a mother tiger before she was a mother. She would fight to keep safe anyone in her care. Her strenuous efforts on behalf of Baby Andy, David and Shawn Cook, Kelly and Alex Morris, and Colin Gibson were ample evidence of her kind nature. Marginalized foster kids were her particular protective passion. Booth had witnessed over and over how hard she worked to gain justice for every crime victim they found. Brennan doubted her ability to connect with people, but he knew her worries were groundless.

He rolled toward her, and smiled down at her gently-rounded abdomen sheltering their unborn child. "You're so very lucky, little one," he whispered softly, "to have her as your mother." A few more months, and he'd have more softness to cuddle; their baby. He couldn't wait! He brushed a strand of hair out of Brennan's eyes and she stirred. He kissed her nose. "Booth, it's Saturday, we can sleep in," Brennan complained. "You get your rest, my beauty, I'm going in search of coffee and bacon and newspapers, and then I shall rustle you up some of my blueberry pancakes," Booth declared happily, sliding out of bed. "Bacon, ugh!" Brennan groaned, rolling over. "Go back to sleep, Bones!" Booth pulled on Green Hornet cotton pants, tied his robe, closed the door quietly and headed for the kitchen.

An hour later, he carried a tray into the bedroom and set it next to the bed. "Hey, Bones, wakey, wakey! I made you blueberry pancakes and cantaloupe slices. The flapjacks are soft and fluffy, just like you!" Brennan sat up in bed, and frowned at him. "What do you mean? I'm not fluffy, and my muscles certainly aren't soft! I do yoga and judo and several other forms of martial arts training each week! I could probably deck you, if I decided to, Mister!"

Booth placed the tray in her lap, and sat down on the bed. "That's not the soft I'm talking about, Bones. I know you're all strong and muscl-y. But you're also soft in all the right places! And your hair is all fluffy and fly-away when you first wake up! Your bed-head curls are one of my favorite things about our mornings!"

"It's a good thing you sat this tray on top of me, Booth! If I didn't have hot coffee to watch, I'd throw something at you! But…I love you too."


	24. Chapter 24 Pain

Chapter 24 Pain

"Booth, we are not having this conversation again! Christine was not born in a hospital, and she is very healthy today. Marisa is an excellent midwife, she is a nurse-practitioner in addition to her obstetrical training, and will take excellent care of us. Birth is a perfectly natural process and I am not proposing to deliver this child squatting in the bush as some African tribal traditions suggest. I'm sure you remember how much blood and bodily fluid my UV light showed in that hospital corridor on our tour before Christine was born. I will not subject my infant to foreign contaminants! I am having this baby at home! End of discussion!" Brennan declared vehemently over her morning grapefruit.

"Okay, okay, Bones! I just want what's best for you and our son, you know that." Booth protested.

"And you don't think I do? Really, Booth! Who's been carrying this child around for eight and three-quarter months? You know I would do anything to insure the safety of our baby! If you don't stop bugging me about this, I shall begin calling Henry a fetus again, just to annoy you!"

"Henry?"

Brennan's voice softened. "Well, yes, I was thinking it would be nice to name the baby after Pops." She took a sip of her peppermint tea.

"That's sweet, Bones…What would you want as a middle name?" Booth asked with a smile.

"Well, I have a couple of ideas. I'm not particularly fond of Max, but my dad used Matthew while he and my mother were hiding, and that's also Parker's middle name, so I like that one. Or we could use Joseph after you. Or we could use both…Henry Matthew Joseph."

"Matthew is a great suggestion. I know Parker would love that and I'm sure your dad would be thrilled."

"Of course, we could save one of those names, in case we have a third child, if you are so inclined, Booth," Brennan said.

"I'd have to think about giving him three names. That's kind of a big mouthful for a little kid. Maybe we should focus on getting this bun out of the oven in good shape first, Bones." Booth laughed.

"Ooooohhhh, Booth! I guess you better think fast! Aaaahhhh! I'm feeling contractions that are too strong for Braxton-Hicks! Oooffff! That one hurt!" Brennan took a deep breath and bent over, holding her abdomen.

"Here, let's get you into the bedroom," Booth began.

"No, Booth, I need to stay active as long as I can, to move my labor along. I've been having mild contractions since last evening and all last night…..Uuuggghhh…that one's not mild! I guess I won't be having any grapefruit this morning after all. These are coming closer together."

"Time to give Marisa a ring?" Booth asked. "Or should we time these first before I call her?"

"Good idea, if they keep coming this fast, this isn't going to be a prolonged process! It's very propitious that Christine spent the night with her grandfather so they could go to the Washington Zoo later this morning.…Uuuuhhhnnn, four years old is a little too young to be hearing this, I think. Aaaahhhhh!"

"Bones, there's nobody here but me. You can yell all you want. Uh, wow. Those were only ninety-two seconds apart. You want to move to the bed?"

"Not yet, but please do call Marisa and let her know I may be in active labor."

"You're gonna work this so the hospital's out of the question, aren't you?"

"Not my choice, Booth! You know when labor starts, it's like trying to stop a waterfall. Well, not entirely, there are drugs which can slow the onset of labor and its progress, but in a healthy woman, that's not advisable. And besides, I don't want to delay our son's arrival. I find I'm rather anxious to hold our next progeny in my arms rather than in my uterus….Mmmmmnnnnn!"

"Bones, only you could think clearly enough to deliver a medical lecture in the middle of labor, but I agree, I'm ready for this little guy to come out and meet his family."

"Ooohh, Booth, call her! Now! Damn, that hurt!"

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"You think another back rub would help you relax?"

"I don't need to relax, I need to get this baby out of me! Uuuuhhhhhh!"

"Boooooth! I know I said I wanted to have a silent birth, but oooooohhhhhh!"

"Marisa's on the way, but there's a wreck on the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, so she's gonna be awhile getting here, Bones."

"Booth, we've done this before on our own, if we have to, we can do it again," Brennan huffed between contractions.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Thirty-eight minutes later…..

"Bones, he's coming, I can see his head! Push, honey!"

"Don't you honey me! Ooooohhhh!"

"Aaaaiiiiieeeehhhhh! Booth, I wish you could hold my haaannnddd!"

"Baby, I can't be down here and up there at the same time! It's nearly over; he's almost here!"

"Booottthhh, don't call me Baaaabbbbyyy! Uuuggghhh!"

"Uhhh, he's out! Oh, Bones, he's perfect! Hey, little guy!"

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Tempe, honey, he's beautiful."

"Thanks, Dad…."

"I think he's got your mother's eyes."

"Dad, babies' eyes can change color several days or weeks after birth. The color they are born with is often not their permanent eye color."

"I know that's what the books say, honey, but those big blue eyes are yours and your mom's, just as sure as I'm standing here."

"I sure wish Mom could have seen him. That's my only regret. It hurts that she isn't still here."

"Tempe, I miss her so much, and I know she can't be here, but that doesn't mean she can't see him!" Max declared, kissing his daughter's forehead.

Brennan frowned at her father. "You know I don't believe in souls, Dad. Mom isn't hanging around here up in the corner of the ceiling."

"Oh, honey, you can't be so sure about that. There is certainly physical pain in having a baby, and emotional pain as well, when our loved ones are gone, but I think your Mom knows about little Henry here, and I bet she's every bit as proud as I am." Max told her.

"Oh, Dad…"

**A/N: This may seem like it moved impossibly fast, but my second child arrived in 3 hours 8 minutes from first twinge to the big finish. Some kids just won't wait. A couple of thanks to non-profile reviewers. GuestJD, your compliment is much appreciated. The other writers here are a lot more prolific, experienced and very talented so your comment is very significant to me. Likewise, JSBonesLover. I've always loved writing but this is my first prose experience. Your positive opinion is encouraging and uplifting to a neophyte. Especially on an icy sleeting frigid morning. What happened to Spring? (Oh, and since Booth loves his Beer Hat, the Green Hornet pants seemed to suit his leisure fashion tastes.) **


	25. Chapter 25 Potatoes

Chapter 25 Potatoes

Booth came in the front door, dropped his car keys into the bamboo bowl Brennan kept on the entry hall table, and secured his weapon in the gun safe on their bookshelves. He smelled something delicious wafting out of the kitchen and followed his nose to investigate. Brennan was stirring a large pot of soup on the stove.

"What's for dinner, Bones? What's in the pot that smells so good?"

She turned to him with what Booth called her 'scholarly look,' and smiled. "Well, since it is March I've decided to prepare an Irish dish each night until St. Patrick's Day. This is potato soup."

"What brought this on, Bones, I didn't think you believed in saints, much less cooking for them."

"Booth, I am not cooking for mythical spirits. I'm cooking for you and Christine. Since I am of Irish descent, I thought it would be appropriate for Christine to become familiar with the traditional foods of her ancestors. Brennan and Keenan are both Irish surnames, you know. So at least my parents were genealogically consistent in creating their false identities."

"Since you are Catholic, I thought at first your family originated in Ireland, but then realized Booth is a British surname and discovered that some British families migrated to Ireland in the late 1600's due to political unrest."

"Uh, wow, Bones, you really do your dinner research!"

"The anthropological ramifications of culinary traditions are quite fascinating," Brennan smiled as she gave the soup another stir.

"So what other dishes do you have planned for us?" Booth inquired as he dipped a teaspoon into the pot for a taste.

"Hey, you need to wait until we sit down to eat….as you may know, potatoes were a staple of the Irish peasants' diet. The yield from one acre could feed a family of six for an entire year. They didn't need a plow to cultivate potatoes which was fortunate since many couldn't afford to purchase one. The 1845 potato crop failed from an air-borne fungus phytophthora infestans, which…."

"Bones, I'm starving! Your soup's delicious. Can you please continue this lecture while we eat?"

"Sure, Booth. I surmise that's more information about potatoes than you wanted to hear. I suppose I was transported away."

"Carried away, Bones, you got carried away. So what else are you gonna cook for us?" Booth grinned.

"Well, there's boxty, Dublin coddle, colcannon …."

"Gosh, what's all that?"

"Pancakes, sausage casserole, and potato salad, Booth."

Well, could you include some corned beef and cabbage? It was one of Pops and my favorites when Grans used to make it. I love your enthusiasm for Irish cooking, but I spent hours peeling potatoes on K.P. in the Army, and it will be too soon if I never look at a potato peel again in my life. We might need to spread the potato dishes out through the month, because too much of a good thing…you know,"

"Hmm. Booth, you never seem to turn down the French fries at the diner….but of course, we could invite your grandfather to come for the weekend if he'd like."

"That's a great idea, and maybe we could buy Christine a Mr. Potato-Head set to play with. I loved that toy when I was a kid. Grams always bought two extra potatoes for me and Jared to use…."

"Booth, I believe that toy now includes a plastic replica of a potato with holes drilled into it which are the correct size for children to insert the various noses, eyes, ears and other pieces, although none of them are anatomically correct."

"Plastic potatoes? They just have to take all the fun out of stuff for kids these days!"

"Booth, the real potatoes would soften and become moldy rather quickly, and weren't really sanitary to play with….. I never liked that toy very much as a child."

"Aw, Bones, I bet the real reason you disliked it is they didn't include the little bones for you to play with!"

"If you don't quit teasing me, I may just dump this cauldron of potato soup over your head!"

"Cauldron?"


	26. Chapter 26 Rain

Chapter 26 Rain

Booth stood at the back door looking out at his newly planted vegetable garden. He had just finished setting out the Big Boy and Better Boy tomato plants Brennan wanted to cultivate this summer when a spring shower had drenched him. He'd dashed into the garage to store his hoe so it wouldn't rust, and made a run for the back porch. After a hand towel got his face fairly dry, he surveyed his morning's work with a certain satisfaction. By the time Bones returned from the grocery store, the plants would have been nicely watered by the rain and she ought to be pleased.

He had intended to go upstairs for a shower, but the steady rhythm of the rainfall mesmerized him into a day-dreamish trance. His eyes glazed over, focused on nothing at all, and his mind wandered around the cache of experiences stored within its archives. The rain's ozone scents and pattering sounds evoked several memories.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The spring rains of Afghanistan could mean flooded roads in some provinces but they could also coax green growth from the usually dry sandy desert soil where he had been stationed. The sudden brief appearance of colorful plant life brought a respite to the routine dull beige and gray landscape. The dusty streets were temporarily cleaner and the air was cooler, fresh and easy to breathe compared to its furnace-like sting when summer arrived. It was during these spring showers that he and Hannah had enjoyed a few weeks of fun together. By now, she was only a faded memory, a reminder of the wrenchingly painful separation he and Brennan had endured, which had finally cleared his Bones' mind of her commitment fears and ultimately made their presently happy life together possible.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

He shivered as he unwillingly remembered a dark raincoat-soaking night when he'd followed Bones' taxi to a seedy part of D.C. and jogged toward her, wondering why in God's green earth she was crouched in the middle of the water-filled street, examining a traffic marker. A car's oncoming headlights suddenly illuminated her like FBI searchlights, and he raced to pull her to the curb, out of danger's path. The two of them lost their balance on the sidewalk, a horrific collision narrowly averted by his quick reflexes and strong arms. And then she had broken his heart.

"My world turned upside down for three days, Booth. Micah says the universe is full of faint static-ky messages. But I got the message Booth. I want to give us a try."

"But I'm with someone….I moved on. I had to. ….Hannah's not a consolation prize."

"Ohhh… I missed my chance…that's okay. I'm okay. I'll adjust."

"I did."

"Yes, you did."

The tears blurring his eyes cleared as another memory replaced that one…

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

A long, slow, sweet kiss in the rain as they stood beside a waiting cab, a kiss that was finally interrupted by the impatient driver's honk.

"You'd never regret spending the night with me, Booth. But I'm not going home with you tonight. We're not having sex tonight."

"Why?"

"Tequila!" And Bones had waved at him through the back window of the taxi as it drove away down the street, and left him standing in the rain under a red neon sign blinking "Liquor Store." And Booth smiled slightly because he'd carried the warmth of that kiss in his head for eight years, until Jacob Broadsky's sniper shot had shattered the Jeffersonian's glass skylight and Vincent Nigel-Murray's young life. Bones' grief and confusion that night had driven her into his arms.

"What kind of person am I, Booth? He thought I was sending him away."

"He wasn't talking to you….That's not how things work….He was talking to God….Okay, he was talking to the Universe…..he didn't want to go, Bones."

And he'd held her, letting her sob out her pain until her tears were gone.

And then something unspeakably tragic had led to something inexpressibly wonderful.

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB

The front door opened as Brennan stepped in with two grocery sacks in her arms.

"What a downpour! Did you finish your planting? Booth, you're all wet….. Booth?"

He turned and reached for her.

"What?" she asked.

He pulled her to him in a fierce hug, and his lips sought hers.

"I love kissing you when it rains, Bones."

"Right back at you, Booth."

**A/N: Those tomato plant varieties were my dad's favorites to grow. Every year we were drowning in tasty tomatoes by mid-summer. And our neighbors loved the overflow.**


	27. Chapter 27 Chocolate

Chapter 27 Chocolate

Dr. Temperance Brennan slid her laptop into her messenger bag, slung it over her shoulder and kissed her husband, who was up to his elbows in soapy dish water. "Why aren't you putting those plates in the dishwasher, Booth?"

"These were my Grams, and the gold edging is getting fragile, Bones."

"You are sweet to go to that extra trouble to preserve them for Parker and Chrissy . I'll try to be home by noon; I need to examine the hominid bones I received from China yesterday afternoon and email my initial findings to Dr. Li at Nanking University," Brennan told him as she bent to hug their daughter. "Only 30 more minutes of television, honey. Then you and Daddy find something else to do."

"Don't worry, Bones, we've got all sorts of projects planned for this morning, don't we, Chrissy-cakes?"

"I know your projects, Booth. No telling what I'll come home to," Brennan smiled back, rolling her eyes at him on her way out the front door.

oooooooooooooooooo

"Okay, Little Miss, turn off 'Bunsen Jude, The Science Dude' and let's get this show on the road so we're finished by the time Mommy gets back!" Booth called to Christine as he put the last plate into the cabinet and dried his hands. "Did you know that your mom was on that television show one time? They even filmed it at her lab. I think Parker has it on DVD; we'll have to watch it together one of these Saturdays when Mommy doesn't have to go to the lab."

"Daddy, what's our prajet?" Christine asked excitedly.

"We are gonna surprise your mom with a big batch of Pops' Super Duper Chocolate Chunk Brownies," Booth told her as he looped a small apron over her head and tied its strings around her tummy. "Parker is on spring break next week, so he'll be coming to spend a few days with us, and he loves those as much as I did when I was a kid."

"How come I never gots one of Great Gran Pops Choklit Brownies, Daddy?"

"Because your mother thinks you shouldn't eat that much chocolate all at one time, Punkin' but we're going to convince her to make an exception for Parker's visit," Booth declared as he helped Christine climb up onto one of the kitchen chairs.

"You hold this big spoon, while I crack these eggs and measure out the millk and flour and sugar and then I'll let you stir it after I get all this stuff mixed up…..hmmmm, this batter is really thick. I think we're going to need your mom's electric mixer."

Booth reached under the cabinet and pulled out the mixer.

"So what can I do, Daddy?"

"I have just the job for you, Miss Chris! It requires a very special talent, which I know you have."

Booth produced a bag of chocolate chips, and a large flat bar of Hershey's Chocolate. He handed Christine the chocolate bar. "Tear open the paper, and unwrap the shiny silver foil inside. Then see if you can break the candy into pieces along the grooves. When you finish that, I'll show you how to measure the chocolate chips," he grinned.

"Wow, Daddy, these brownies need A LOT of chocolate, huh?"

"Yup, they sure do, Bubbette. Hey, don't be eating so many of those chocolate chips, you little monkey!"

A half hour later, after letting Christine 'finger paint' butter all over the bottom of a large rectangular pan to grease it, Booth scooped the last of the brownie batter from the bowl, and lifted the pan into the oven. "And now we wait!" he smiled as he set the timer. "Thirty-five minutes is just enough time for a good swing outside! We'll clean up the kitchen once we get the brownies out of the oven to cool."

After pushing Christine in her swing until his arms were tired, Booth heard the timer chime and lifted her onto his shoulders for the trip back inside. "Back up, honey, I don't want you to get burned. This is hot!" Booth carried the pan of brownies to the laundry room to cool, and closed the door.

"Daddy, are you washing the brownies?"

"No, honey, we can't surprise your mom, if she finds the brownies before they've cooled off!"

"Can you swing me some more?"

"Why don't you give your tricycle a ride? Dad's arms are tired out right now. I'm going to sit here on the porch and watch you for a bit."

oooooooooooooooo

A short time later, Brennan pulled into the garage and went to look for her family. She walked through the kitchen and gasped at the chocolate fragments and chips scattered across the counter, and the drippy mixing bowl still streaked with chocolate batter which sat in the sink. Looking out the kitchen window, she saw who she was looking for. She quietly opened the back door, and stepped out onto the porch. Sprawled in one of their white Adirondack lounge chairs, Booth was fast asleep with a chocolate-faced Christine napping on his chest.

"Looks like I've discovered the hide-out of the infamous Chocolate Chip Gang!" Brennan laughed as she tickled and kissed her drowsy spouse and child. "Do you two think you could have made a bigger mess of the kitchen? It looks like you had a spectacularly fun morning together!"

"We made you Gran Pop's brownies, Mommy!"

"Boy, kiddo, you really know how to blow a secret! I'll never make a good FBI agent out of you!" Booth grumbled to his daughter. "But they'll still taste great, anyway."


	28. Chapter 28 Happiness

Chapter 28 Happiness

"Good morning, Booth, I presume you recognize the strong significance of this day which is dawning before us," Brennan stated softly, nuzzling her husband who slept beside her.

"Wha…Huh?" Booth mumbled groggily. "Bones, what on earth are you talking about?"

"I assume you know what today is?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow and smirking at him a bit.

"It's too early in the morning for your anthropological mumbo-jumbo, Bones. Did I forget something yesterday? Do we have a meeting with Cullen today?"

"No, silly, this has nothing to do with the lab or the FBI. Since you are the more romantically-inclined person in our conjugal relationship, I postulated that you could guess the answer to my question very easily. But perhaps I over-estimated the importance you assign to observing the milestones in your life," Brennan sighed dramatically.

"Come on, Bones, I don't have the foggiest idea what you are referring to. It's 5:45 am. I'm not even sure what the date is, or what my name is, for that matter since we stayed at the Founding Fathers so late last night watching the semi-final hockey match with Wendell and Andie, and then the Flyers had the temerity to lose in the last 30 seconds! Throw me a bone here, Temperance, I don't have a clue what you're talking about…"

"So you can use the word 'temerity' correctly in a sentence at 5:46 am, but you still don't recall what momentous event today commemorates? Alas, I'm devastated!" Brennan swept her hand across her eyes in a movie-star-worthy gesture.

"Bones, I think we've been watching too many Bogey and Bacall reruns, you're getting a little over the top there for Wanda or Roxy; either one!" Booth smiled at his wife. "Of course I know what today is, it's our wedding anniversary! I was just ribbing you a little. And you are **so** a romantic. I am not any more romantic than you are. You just come up with very unique and wonderful expressions for our romance."

"Well, Booth, thank goodness, you had me worried there for a moment. I have a surprise for you, and possibly Christine if you think her accompanying us would be appropriate."

"Chrissy coming along to celebrate our anniversary? Booth asked incredulously.

"Her ballet class has been practicing for their recital, and the song to which they are performing is very appealing. She seems to be quite enthralled with dancing. I thought she might enjoy seeing the actual Broadway rendition of the routine she and her class mates will be recreating at their recital," Brennan ventured. "But if you don't think she should come, I can make other arrangements for her to stay with Max or Angela for the afternoon."

"What is this mysterious performance you keep going on about, Bones?"

"There is a traveling dance company from New York presenting _The King and I_ at the Kennedy Center this weekend. Christine's age group at the ballet studio is learning a routine to 'Happy Talk,' and I thought we could take her to see the musical, then drop her off to spend the night with the Hodgins' or Dad and have the evening and overnight to ourselves for the purpose of celebrating our anniversary in an adult and private way." Brennan said hopefully.

Gee, Bones, that's an excellent idea. You just took the really long way around to get to the point….like all the way around the Horn of Africa!" Booth teased her gently. "I think Christine would enjoy The King and I and I would definitely be happy to have a sleep-over with you afterwards! I can think of all sorts of ways to do 'Happy Talk' with you all night long!"

"My mom and dad sometimes put a Columbia Philharmonic Orchestra record of 'Shall We Dance?' on our phonograph and then waltzed around our living room. The musical score and lyrics for _The King and I _were some of Rogers' and Hammerstein's most lively compositions. Mom used to sing 'Getting to Know You' while she cooked dinner. Max would sing, 'Shall I Tell You What I Think of You?' to tease her, because he'd claim she was a women's libber. Mom would act like it just infuriated her, even though they both knew it was all a pretense. And they'd end up hugging one another and smooching in the middle of our kitchen," Brennan remembered fondly, a far-away look in her blue-grey eyes. "We really had a pretty happy life together before McVicar showed up and broke our fam…." She choked on the rest of her words.

Booth had been listening intently, tears glistening in his eyes. "Hey, your parents were a lot happier together for a lot longer than mine were. I only remember them happy when I was very young. Max and Christine gave you a very happy childhood until their past caught up with them and put you all in such danger. I know it caused you severe grief and lasting trauma, but they made very hard choices for what seemed like good reasons to them at the time to protect you and Russ. They were in a real jam and had to move very quickly. The end results were horrific, but they tried to shield you as best they could." He reached across the bed to pull her into his arms and hugged her tightly.

Brennan relaxed into his strong embrace and wiped at her damp cheeks. "I know they tried, Booth. I'm very grateful that we've been able to keep Christine safe, and that she was too little to remember when I left with her for that awful summer. We've given her happiness so far and hopefully, her life will continue to be a fulfilling one. I'm so happy being your wife and her mother, and a mom to Parker. My life is so much different than I used to imagine, and so much better with you than I could have ever envisioned."

"It took us about a decade too long, Bones, but thank God, we finally arrived at the same point emotionally at the same time. Your love and trust in me have made me the happiest man alive, and I don't care if you believe in Fate or not, but I do! The first time I saw you in that lecture hall, I was caught, hook line and sinker, and I've never looked back or been sorry. I've loved every day with you. I'm so happy you came back to me and we finally stopped Pelant. I have been so grateful that you are always by my side. Even before we were together like we are now. I love being your partner, your friend, your lover, your husband. I would have taken any relationship you were comfortable having with me. But I am so, so glad that now we are together as partners in every facet of life, for always in every sense of the word. I love you more than I can ever make you understand, Dr. Temperance Brennan." And with that, he kissed her soundly on the lips.

Brennan gazed at him, her eyes shining with happiness. "Seeley Booth, I love you too, more than I ever thought possible. We've proved Plato correct, we have become one instead of two, and broken every law of physics that ever existed. You told me that love was more than a chemical sensation, and then you proved it to me every day with your bravery, your devotion to your family, and your constancy. I don't believe in luck, and yet, I feel I am the luckiest woman alive."

oooooooooooooooo

Several minutes passed, with only their breathing and their communing thoughts to break the silence.

Then Booth pulled back to grin at her. "Oh, by the way, I remembered this while you were talking about your parents. Our relatives apparently have the same musical preferences. Pops' and Grams' favorite song was 'Hello, Young Lovers.' I think they saw _The King and I _on a trip to New York once. They used to dance in the living room, too. Jared and I used to chuckle at them, but they were actually pretty good at 'cutting the rug' as Pops called it. Is that a coincidence or what? Who'd a' thought our families would've both liked that musical so much?"

"Of course, we'll take Christine! Heck, we've got to, it's in her DNA!" Booth declared.

"Booth, music and songs aren't coded into your DNA…"

"Oh no? I betcha there's a happy gene, a singing gene and a dancing gene in there someplace!"

"No, Booth, there are genetic tendencies for better or lesser physical coordination and wider or narrow vocal ranges and calmer or more excitable personalities in different people, but there's no such thing as a happy gene," Brennan objected. "But you are ribbing me again, Booth. You know, like Eve being made from Adam's rib in the biblical myth…. And, yes, you've made me so very happy."

"The Bible isn't a myth, Bones, any more than Jesus is a zombie! But I love you anyway, so very much!"

oooooooooooooooooooo

"Oh my gosh, Bones! It's 7:15! If we don't get a move on, we're going to be so late to work, they'll make us work this Saturday as retribution!"


	29. Chapter 29 Telephone

Chapter 29 Telephone

'g93kd7fekwka7f729101-028dgsuis8a73893903' "What the heck?" Seeley Booth wondered, trying to decipher the text from Brennan which had dinged on his phone as he pulled into their driveway.

"'Lucy, I'm home!' ... Hey, Bones, where are you guys?" Booth asked as he walked in the front door at 8 pm? "Something smells really good!"

"Upstairs reading to Christine," Brennan responded as she came downstairs holding their daughter. "I made vegetable soup and corn muffins for dinner. I knew it would keep well and be easy to reheat for you."

"I'm sorry my meeting with Cullen and Hacker ran so long I missed dinner, but we're trying to schedule all the probationary agents for an observational day with Gibbs' people at NCIS to improve our effectiveness at working together. Since we can't go out on each other's cases, I realized it's going to take several months for everyone to cycle through the program. It took me 30 minutes of discussion with Hacker to convince him I wasn't trying to delay its completion. It was his idea, and for once, he had a brilliant proposal. But he always thinks I'm gunning for his job and blocks my comments without even listening. Boy, am I glad to be out of there. I don't know how Cullen keeps his patience with that guy."

"Bones, what is this gibberish text message you sent me while I was driving home? Is your phone malfunctioning? It says '4e9oi7fkfmr38es90sd9weujq2hwe0.' Did Angela crack some alien code I'm not aware of from green Martians or are you learning Swahili?"

Brennan chuckled and pointed to Christine, who was busy crushing an animal cracker on her high chair tray. "My phone fell out of my messenger bag when we got home and your daughter got ahold of it before I realized it. She had a great time pressing random keys until I retrieved it from her busy little fingers. The only word I know in Swahili is 'skull.' And Booth, there is no such thing as green Martian alien code."

"My daughter? You're the one with the superb manual dexterity from handling bones all these years and learning to discern what those little bumps and grooves and ridges mean!" Booth sputtered and broke into a grin. 'You know, when I was a kid, Jared had a Chatter Phone pull toy that looked like Pops' old rotary dial Western Electric desk phone, but now kids wouldn't even recognize that as a phone. They think that phones are flat miniature TV screens."

"That's true of most children, Booth, but Christine won't be ignorant of historic telephone technology. Your vintage bakelite telephone will be perfect to acquaint her with how phone calls were made when we were children."

"Maybe when she is a teenager, Bones, but she's not touching my bakelite phone for a long time! That's my pride and joy, and no grubby little kid hands are going to break it. Parker knows very well not to touch it. It's off limits to anyone under age 15! You have no idea how much that meant to me when I saw it sitting on my table! It was one of the nicest things you've ever done for me."

"Booth, I didn't give you that phone, Hannah did."

"Nope, Bones, I know better! Hannah may have turned me down, but she wasn't a mean person, and one of the things she told me after you left that night was that it was you who gave her the idea to buy it for me as a gift! You were the one who knew me so well, you knew what the perfect gift would be, and you were thoughtful enough to let her know about it. She thought that was a very kind thing of you to do. When she told me what you'd done, I knew you were the best friend I'd ever have."

"Oh, Booth!" Brennan sighed with tears in her eyes. 'Who knew a phone could become so significant?"

He opened his arms and hugged her as she buried her face in his shoulder. "Me, Bones, lucky me." he answered softly, kissing her.


	30. Chapter 30 Ears

Chapter 30 Ears

"Seeley, that movie Padme and I saw last night might be one you and Tempe would enjoy," said Jared as he and Booth sat drinking some beer while watching a Flyers/Capitols match on television. Christine was playing with her Legos on the floor at Booth's feet. "It stars Will Smith and some Australian actress named Margot Robie. She's got a great body. Padme and I had a fun night acting it out after seeing it. It's got a pretty intriguing plot, but it also has some hot se-" "Oof!"

"Jared, Geez, man!" Booth punched Jared in the side and cut his brother off with a growl as he dove to cover Christine's tender ears. "Don't you have any sense around kids? You're gonna have to learn to control your mouth! Joe may be a baby now, but you and Padme won't want him hearing that kind of stuff when he's Christine's age! Grow up! Bones would have a cow if she heard you!"

"Okay, Okay, Seel, I get it…Sorry." Jared mumbled.

"Ha, Uncle Jared, Dad's right!" laughed Parker, coming in from the kitchen to join them. "I spent a lot of time with my hands over my ears humming to myself when I was little and I had to go to Dad's office. I guess they had to discuss stuff a kid shouldn't hear. Not sure what, I never could tell what they were saying over my humming. I guess I should have asked Bones to teach me to read lips."

"Oh, Lord, thank God you didn't have that brainstorm back then, Bud," Booth grinned at his blond son who had grown nearly as tall as he was lately. Parker lowered his lanky frame into the recliner and leaned back to raise his feet.

"This new chair Bones bought you for Father's Day is really comfy, Dad."

"Parka, Parka, will you build Legos with me?" Christine begged her older brother with a miniature smile just like he had instinctively used to coax favors out of his parents when he was younger.

"Okay, munchkin. Or would you rather go out to our tree house? I bet I could lift you up and set you in there, so you don't even have to climb the ladder! We can do Legos tonight when it's dark before you go to bed. I have to leave tomorrow morning, so let's use the sunshine while we can."

"Okay!" his little sister agreed, and he swung her up on his shoulders, striding toward the back French doors.

"Parker, you take it easy with her," Booth cautioned.

"I know, Dad. 'Be careful' has been your mantra that I've been hearing for years."

"You and Rebecca did a great job raising him, Seel," Jared complimented his brother. "I hope we do as well with Joey. Padme's got him off to a great start. We're both lucky we found good women."

"Yup, Padme's been a godsend for you and Bones has been the biggest blessing in my life, even though she'd refute that if she heard me. 'Booth, I don't believe in blessings, or deities, or any of that' she'd say. But despite her protests, that's the way I feel about her," Booth declared.

"Are you two talking about us behind our backs?" Padme asked as she and Brennan came in from the garage carrying shopping bags. "I feel my ears burning, so you must have been discussing us A girl can't go shopping without coming home to some commentary. And people say women are the ones who gossip!"

"Honey, don't worry, it was all good. Seeley and I are fortunate guys to have you both in our lives!" Jared assured her as he and Booth clinked their beer bottles together in a toast to their wives.


	31. Chapter 31 Name

Chapter 31 Name

A/N: For this story, I've swiped some of Razztaztic's characters from her Roots and Wings. In her universe Parker and wife Josie have a daughter Becky. For my purposes, they also have a son.

oooooooooooooo

"Parker called this morning, Booth. He and Josie had an ultrasound at her last obstetrical exam and wondered if we'd like to view the CD. I invited them to dinner tonight. Can you be home by 6:30 p.m.?"

"For a peek at our future grandchild, I'll be sure I'm home from that meeting with Hacker, Bones. If we aren't done with his budget review, I'll schedule another session in the morning. I hate dealing with math anyway."

ooooooooooooooo

"Hey, Dad, how are your knees holding up after you planted Bones' vegetables last week? Parker asked as he, Josie and Becky came in the front door. "You should've let me know and I would've come over and helped you."

Nonsense, Bub, I can still hoe my own row," Booth retorted. "How's my granddaughter today?"

"Grand-dad, you made a rhyme!" Becky beamed up at Booth, who wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a circle.

"Booth, watch out, you're going to knock over my Anasazi mating vase!" Brennan cautioned her husband. "Go out in the back yard if you're going to swing Becky around! And be careful of your back."

"Everybody acts like I'm falling apart," Booth grumbled. "Come on, honey, I'll swing you out back a little."

"Josie, how are you feeling? Is your hyperemesis lessening? Booth and I are anxious to see the images of the fetus from your ultrasound. I made vegetable lasagna for dinner with a white cheese sauce rather than my normal tomato marinara recipe, because tomatoes always gave me indigestion while I was pregnant," said Brennan.

"It's a baby, Bones!" Booth yelled from the back yard, through the open door.

"Thanks, that's thoughtful of you, I've been surprised how many foods make me queasy this time. I didn't really have much trouble with that when Becky was on the way. I brought some zucchini bread, Temperance. It's one thing that I can eat and actually digest rather than seeing it again."

oooooooooooooooo

"The lasagna was really excellent! Let me stick this CD in, said Parker as he placed his laptop on the dining table. I think you can both see it from here."

The baby looks like it has Booth's prominent supraorbital ridges, Brennan remarked. It's too early to tell if its acromia will resemble its grandfather's."

"You can say 'his' for now, Bones. The doctor is almost sure we're having a boy. The baby turned, but he said he got a quick glimpse of his genitalia. Of course, he said it might have been the baby's fist."

"Yes, the quality of the ultrasound images are vastly improved from what they used to be. At one time all you could discern was the flickering of a heartbeat within a blackish blob. It is possible to determine fetal gender if the view is optimal, although you are still early in your pregnancy," Brennan responded. "There has been some research to suggest that increased nausea is indicative of a male offspring. While but it's not been sufficiently substantiated to rely upon, your experiences do seem to correlate with it, Josie."

"We don't really care as long as it's healthy. We've been considering names" Josie smiled. "We can't use Henry from Pops or Seeley from Booth because Zach and Petra already did, and these cousins play together enough we don't need the confusion of multiple kids with the same name. I love the name Matthew. It means 'gift from God' which Parker has been for me, and this baby will be for us," she said, becoming misty-eyed.

I personally like the name John…., Parker started.

"Son, you can't use that name in this family; its historic connotations wouldn't do your little boy any good at all." Booth interrupted with a grimace. "My classmates used to make 'Arr, Arr, Arr' sounds to tease me, so you really have to give this kid's name some thought. Boys can find a way to tease a child about anything!"

"There aren't any Josephs yet in this generation, and that was Pops' and your middle name. Maybe Joseph Matthew, or Parker Joseph and call him 'Joe.'" Parker mused. "I'm kind of leaning toward Joseph because even though it's not spelled the same, it sounds like Jocelyn. We could use Matthew for me, and Joe for you, Babe."

"Don't call me Baby, Parker, I'm not an infant!" Josie frowned.

"You sound exactly like Bones used to; she detested me calling her Baby," Booth laughed.

"You could use Matthew as a first name, but then he could possibly be confused with Max, Zach's youngest, at family gatherings," Brennan offered.

Becky came in from the back yard, a child's miniature badminton racquet and birdie in her hand. "I wanna name him Clifford or Carl from my fav'rite books!"

Parker smiled affectionately at his daughter. "Sweetie, those characters in your books are dogs. You don't want to name your little brother after a pooch, do you?"

"Daddy, what's a pooch?"

"Oh, never mind. Whatever we name this kiddo, he's going to be loved and cherished as much as Becky. We feel very fortunate to being having a second child, after all the health issues Josie's had in the past. We were amazed when we found out Becky was coming, and now we'll have a son as well. " Parker declared, hugging his petite wife.

"Well said, well said," Brennan smiled, as she handed them each a goblet. "Now let's toast this child with some apple cider, since Josie can't consume alcohol."


	32. Chapter 32 Sensual

Chapter 32 Sensual

Temperance Brennan sat in the comfortable glider rocker in Christine's pale yellow nursery, feeding her daughter. Although it was 4 am, she found herself more awake than she'd normally expect to be this early in the morning. She would never have imagined, a few years ago, that she would relish motherhood so much.

Not knowing whether or not Christine would be her only child, she had been filing away the tender memories and sweet sensations of her pregnancy, and each day of this little girl's life. Certainly the unusual circumstances of her birth made that day very memorable for both Brennan and Booth, since it had been a very private joint effort shared with no one but the horse in the stable behind the roadside inn. The experience of nursing her child was an enormous surprise to Brennan.

While she could have instantly delivered a lecture regarding the anthropological significance of maternal nurturing practices through the millennia of human existence, and recite from memory all the physical benefits of breastfeeding for both infant and mother, and knew the nutritional advantages of human breast milk for babies, she could never have guessed that it would bring her such pleasure and evoke such strong emotions. The connection she felt with her child during their nocturnal feeding sessions went far beyond the slightly ticklish feeling of Christine's rhythmic suckling.

Gazing down into blue eyes the same color as hers made Brennan feel as though she could see her child thinking. Though infants have no language capabilities beyond cries and gurgles, she realized there existed a silent communication between them and their mothers at intimate moments like this. Although she wouldn't go so far as to say she believe in souls, Brennan came to understand the deep meaning of the saying that eyes are the windows of the soul. Nursing her baby was truly a sensual experience she never expected.

oooooooooooooooooo

Her musing about motherhood led her to think other pleasant thoughts of the man who had helped her create this life she now cradled. Seeley Booth was the perfect blueprint of an ideal father. His physical attributes were very close to the 'golden triangle' standards of sculptors and painters. But it was the man's spirit and character which made him the wonderful mate and life partner she loved. He was brave, caring, noble, and insightful; with an uncanny ability to read people's feelings and circumstances. He put the welfare of others ahead of his own in nearly every instance Brennan could recall. Like any other human being, he wasn't guiltless. He had a temper and could be as grumpy and petty as the next person at times, but he was pretty damn close to being as perfect as any man she'd ever encountered.

The public partnership of service and crime-solving they shared had benefitted many people, and Booth was a charitable man who donated what he could to many worthy causes, even when his moderate government salary had been garnered for child support, rent, food and other necessities of life. Since their personal relationship had become permanent, the couple had given considerable amounts to various charities, but Booth had always insisted on pulling his weight.

Brennan smiled to herself. Her husband possessed excellent stamina and physical prowess when it came to their bedroom activities and had never failed to satisfy her every dream and desire. But even more than his bodily strength and endurance, his thoughtful kindness and sensitivity to her needs were what made Booth an exceptional lover, companion, and husband. He was one of the most considerate men she had ever encountered. From the chaste friendly kisses they shared across the kitchen counter cooking breakfast or saying goodbye at her lab to the most intimate and private exchanges they shared with no one else, Booth fulfilled her every need for affection, security, friendship comfort and love. They shared a deeper connection, both sensual and intellectual, than she would have ever thought possible between two distinct entities.

While Brennan might not have been up to date on popular culture or slang expressions, she possessed an extensive vocabulary, was widely-read, and thoroughly educated. She understood the nuances of the English language. There were only a few letters' difference between sexual and sensual, but there was every difference in the two concepts. She had dated numerous attractive men who competently satisfied her physical urges, but her encounter with the handsome mouthy FBI agent in her lecture hall had changed her view of human connections. Intellectually, she equated his statement that there was a huge difference between crappy sex and making love to Plato's description of humans split apart seeking to become whole again. But it wasn't until the sadness of Mr. Nigel Murray's tragic death drove her into his arms for comfort that she fully grasped the import of his assertion. In breaking the laws of physics that night together and becoming one from two, they had shared the intense beauty and fulfillment of human sensuality.

oooooooooooooooooo

Immersed in her thoughts, Brennan didn't notice that Christine had stopped nursing and fallen asleep. She gently raised the slumbering child to her shoulder and patted her back until a bubble came up. Then rising, she placed the tiny girl in her crib, tucked her into soft blankets and placed misty-eyed kisses on her downy head. She tiptoed out, leaving the door ajar, and went down the hall to slide back into her side of the bed. She curled against her husband, who instinctively laid his arm protectively over her side. Brennan glanced at the bedside clock; she had another hour to doze before rising for work. Closing her eyes, she thanked the universe for an incredible life of love she never foresaw.


	33. Chapter 33 Death

Chapter 33 Death

"Christine, are you awake yet," asked Zach hesitantly from the doorway of her room.

"Wha-? Whatsa matter, Zach, you need somethin'?" muttered his sister sleepily.

"I think there's something wrong with Petey. He's not moving."

Christine took her brother's hand and walked with him downstairs and into the family room where the goldfish bowl sat on the window sill above the small desk where she studied and Zach colored.

"Hmmm, I think we better get Mom, maybe he's just practicing floating like we do in swim class, but Mom will know for sure what's going on," Christine decided.

The two children trudged back up the staircase and down the hall to their parents' room, where they knocked on the door.

"Come in," rumbled their drowsy father.

"Can Mommy come look at the fish? I think he might be sick," asked Zach. "I think he might be sick 'cause he's not moving,"

"Daddy, I told Zach he might be practicing his floating like we do in swim class….."

Booth gazed at his daughter, giving her a grateful nod for her insightful kindness to her little brother. "You guys go get your robes on and I'll come take a look. Let's let your mom sleep a little while."

"Zach, buddy, I'm sorry, but your fish friend Petey has died," Booth crouched down so he was at his son's eye level, and embraced the little boy whose eyes were filling with tears.

ooooooooooooooooo

Zach and Christine stood quietly watching their father dig a small hole at the edge of their backyard vegetable patch with his garden trowel.

"There, that should be deep enough for Petey," Booth said as he rose to his feet. "Go get the little guy."

"What should we put him in, Dad?" Christine asked quietly.

"I think your mom found a nice box for your goldfish, honey"

Brennan opened the back door and stepped out with a small white cardboard Macy's jewelry gift box in her hand. "Look what I have for Petey," she said softly, removing its lid to reveal the inside. "This box has a soft cotton cushion so your fish will be comfortable," she told the children, kissing the top of Zach's head and giving Christine a squeeze around her shoulder.

"That's the box we gave you your Mother's Day ring in Mommy," Christine said" "Don't you need it?"

"Christine, I'm wearing my ring, see. And if I need to take it off, it will be fine in my big jewelry box. I don't mind sharing this little box with your pet as his final resting place," she told the children.

"Come on outside, we'll have a little funeral for Petey." suggested Booth.

The four of them walked over to the edge of the garden. Christine carefully placed the box on the grass beside the small hole.

"Okay, kids, do you want to say something to Petey to tell him goodbye?" Booth asked.

"Petey, I'm sad that you're dead." Christine began. "I'm going to miss seeing your tail swish around as you swim in your bowl every day. Watching you helped me think when I was doing my math homework. You won't be lonely because Daddy already put Pokey my turtle and Ribbit, Parker's frog out here."

Brennan rolled her eyes and looked at her husband over the tops of their children's bowed heads with baffled but amused consternation in her eyes.

"A fish helping with homework?" Booth smiled a little and shook his head wryly at his wife. "You never know what'll come out of a kid's mouth," he thought to himself.

Zach let out a muffled sob. "Petey, you were the bestest goldfish in the whole world," he stammered. "I'm gonna miss you so much!"

"Daddy, can we say a prayer for him?"

"Dear God, please take care of Petey and give him a nice pond in fish heaven to swim in and fish friends to play with. Thank you for bringing Petey into our family for awhile to make us happy," Booth said solemnly.

He leaned over and slid the little box carefully down into the hole. Reaching for the trowel, he began scooping the dark rich dirt over the box to fill in the little grave.

Suddenly, Brennan turned and ran into the house, the screen door slamming behind her.

"Dad, where did Mom go?" Christine asked, mystified.

"Let's finish covering Petey," her father said. He handed the trowel to Christine and she imitated what she'd seen him do, shoving some earth into the hole. Then he placed the trowel in Zach's small hand, curled his around it, and helped him do the same. "Now, you guys can get your markers and some cardboard from under the cabinet, and make Petey a little marker," Booth said. "Your mom's a little emotional about Petey right now."

He led his children into the kitchen and settled them at the counter as he heard water running in the bathroom upstairs.

Booth quietly ascended the stairs, and frowned at the closed door to their bedroom, fairly certain he knew what had prompted her sudden departure.

He found her lying across their bed, crying into his pillow. "You okay there, Bones?"

"No, not at all! I'm feeling extremely sad. Oh, Booth, it reminds me of Ripley all over again. Poor little Zach! Poor Christine! I know it's irrational to mourn a dog or a gold fish or other non-sentient creature, but I can't help it. It wouldn't have bothered me before I met you, but now… especially since the children were born, I find myself illogically emotional when a cherished pet dies. And even though I believe your saying a prayer over its grave is a pointless exercise, I find it brings me comfort which I don't understand."

"Bones, Baby, you're a mother and when your children hurt, it hurts you. When you can't fix their pain or remove it, you hurt worse than they do," said Booth as he hugged her.

ooooooooooooooooo

A short time later, Booth and Brennan came downstairs, arm in arm, her head resting on his shoulder. Entering the kitchen, they found both children hard at work coloring a cardboard rectangle upon which  
Christine had painstakingly written 'PETEY.'

"That would please your little fish, guys. It looks very nice."

"Mommy, are you okay?'

"Just very sad, Chrissy. Are you two okay?"

"We're both berry berry sad, Mommy," Zach spoke up.

"Very sad, honey, not berry. We're not talking about jelly. I think I'll reheat the vegetable lasagna from last night, and toast some French bread for lunch. Then we can watch '101 Dalmatians' together. How does that sound?" Brennan asked.

ooooooooooooooooo

As the family was finishing their meal, Zach looked up at Booth, his dark eyes serious and his forehead furrowed in thought.

"Daddy, why didn't we bury Pops in the back yard with Petey and Pokey and Ribbit?"


	34. Chapter 34 Sex

Chapter 34 Sex

Standing on the sidewalk in front of the school, Zach waited with his classmates for the daily 'maternal offspring vehicular retrieval' ritual, as his mother called it. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar silver-gray car parked across the street.

"Parker!" He exclaimed happily.

"Hi there, kid!" Parker clicked the button to unlock his car's rear passenger door.

"What are you doing here? Where's Rosa?"

His older brother grinned as Zach climbed into the back seat of Parker's Toyota Camry and fastened his seatbelt.

" Zach, apparently your sitter is ill and Dad asked me to pick you up from school and take you to Bones' lab. Christine has a talent show practice session til 5 this afternoon, right?"

"Yup, she does. I'm glad I get to go to the lab. Dr. Hodgins has some new spiders he said would hatch this week and he promised I could help feed 'em!"

"I remember being fascinated by those too, when I was your age. Hodgins is a very cool guy. Although I'm not sure I'd want to be Michael Vincent; there might be too much of a good thing growing up with insects in their house!"

"They rode in silence for a few minutes, and then Zach spoke hesitantly.

"Parker, can I ask you somethin'?"

"Sure, Zacko, what? You can ask me anything; if I don't know the answer, Bones will, for sure."

"What's sex?"

"Why do you ask, Zach? Hear something in the boys' bathroom?"

"Well, my science class is studyin' the body, and that's next."

"Sex?"

"Yeah, about how girls and boys are diff'rent, I think."

"In third grade?"

"Well, they changed me to a diff'rent class last month and that's where they're at in the book. I got 100% on my first science test yesterday. Some of the kids tease me 'cause I'm younger than them, but Mom says to egg-nor them."

"Yeah, sometimes that's a good idea when you're dealing with idiots."

"Oh, I don't think they're id-yuts. I just catch on to stuff real fast."

"Zach, I don't mean the kids who teased you are stupid. But they aren't very smart when it comes to knowing the right way to treat other people. Dad would probably call them 'boneheads' but that would earn him a lecture from Bones about using proper terminology instead of slang."

Parker considered his little brother's question for a moment. "You know what, Zach, I think you'd better ask Bones or Dad about this. It's kind of a complicated subject."

"Okay, I can do that," Zach said.

"Zach, I'll tell you this much. If you want to know the scientific details about something, ask Bones. She'll never treat you like a kid. She'll tell you the absolute truth, even if it's kind of strange or awkward. Dad, sometimes not so much. He gets embarrassed easily. He tries to sugar coat difficult things to make it easier for kids. He'll never steer you wrong, but sometimes, he thinks you need to be older to know about certain things. He used to say he'd tell me all about his time in the army when I had armpit hair. When I got older, I understood why. Some of the stuff he saw in the army wasn't very nice. But, if you want to know about a feeling or what you should do when you have a problem, or how to figure out what's the right thing to say, then Dad's the guy to ask. He'll always give you steer you right!" Parker assured his brother. "Hey, kiddo, you want to go get some ice cream before I drop you at the lab?"

ooooooooooooooooooo

After he'd dropped Zach off at the lab, Parker gave Bones a significant look she'd seen several times since he'd grown older. "Bones, you got a minute?"

"Sure, Parker, anytime, let's go get some coffee up in the lounge. Zach, get started on your homework before you bother Dr. Hodgins to see the spiders! Parker and I will be back in a few minutes."

Once they were seated on the couch with their coffee, Parker spoke softly so his voice wouldn't carry. "On the way over here from school, Zach asked me what sex is, and I told him he needed to talk to you."

"Oh, good grief, I knew advancing him two grades might cause some problems, but I didn't think it would happen this quickly," Brennan grimaced.

"Two grades? Wow!" Parker exclaimed.

"Yes, he has surpassed all his classmates to the point his teacher felt he'd be bored and lose interest in school. He's been reading since he was three and coming to the Jeffersonian's children's educational sessions for four years, so it's not surprising that he's more advanced than others his age," Bones said.

"Well, that, and he's got you for his mother, so the brains just keep on comin'!" Parker grinned at his step-mother fondly. "I know one thing, this would make Dad really uncomfortable. I told Zach he should ask you about it first, because you always told me the absolute truth."

Bones smiled at him. "Your dad just tries to protect his children. I think this is a subject we will both need to address with Zach. He doesn't need to know all the intricate biological details right now, but he does need a factual explanation and to understand to discuss this only within our family, not with his little acquaintances just yet," she mused.

"Yeah, that kind of a conversation over the third grade lunch table might cause a bit of a stir with the other parents!" Parker laughed.

"Thanks for letting me know about this privately, Parker. You are a good big brother to Christine and Zach. I and they are so very lucky to have you and your father in our lives."

"Bones, you know I feel the exact same way. I love Mom dearly, but you've always been special to me for nearly all of my life, and I love you too-a lot! I'm so glad you and Dad finally got together and gave me some siblings. Being the only child kinda sucks."

"True, Parker, I enjoyed having Russ around when I was young. If your dad and I had untangled our feelings earlier, Zach and Christine could be quite a bit older than they are. We made some mistakes with each other. But then, if we'd jumped into things too soon, who knows….?"

"Well, we're all very lucky that you finally got it right!"


	35. Chapter 35 Gift

Chapter 35 Gift

Brennan awoke to the sound of muffled giggles outside the bedroom door. She nudged Booth gently.

"Booth, wake up and get your boxers on; the children are coming down the hall and they'll be in here in a minute. We'll be lucky if they remember to knock first."

Booth quickly extended a hand out of the covers and felt around on the floor next to the bed for the boxers he'd discarded last night when he and Bones had gotten busy 'crocheting' before going to sleep. He lifted his hips, scrambled to get his legs into the appropriate holes, and tugged the garment up over his torso.

"There, all decent," he muttered sleepily. "What hair-brained scheme you suppose they're up to out there?"

The bedroom door latch unsnapped and two tousled heads edged around the door frame, bright little eyes peering into their parents' room.

"You spose they're awake yet?" Zach asked.

"Shhh! As loud as you're talking, of course, they probably are by now, silly," Christine answered.

"G'morning, kids, what are you doing?" Brennan asked.

"We made you breakfast!" Christine informed her proudly. She was carrying a tray with two plastic bowls and spoons, a box of Fruity O's, a package of Kashi Organic Pumpkin Seed Quinoa Clusters, and two plastic covered sippy cups of milk. Zach clutched a plastic Flyer's stadium cup holding six yellow tissue paper flowers twisted into green pipe cleaner stems in one hand, and a slightly wrinkled hand-drawn card in the other.

Christine carefully placed the tray in her mother's lap as Brennan reached to steady it. Zach unceremoniously handed his father the stadium cup, which promptly fell over. Booth placed it on the night stand. The two kids clambered up onto their parents' bed, crawled between them under the covers, and handed them the computer paper card.

"What's the special occasion? It isn't Mother's Day or Father's Day," Booth asked them, smiling.

"It's Parents' Day!" the children chimed in unison. "Read the card!"

"Parents' Day? Never heard of it…" Brennan frowned slightly. "I thought I was aware of every official American holiday on the calendar, both present and historical."

"My teacher said that our parents work really hard to take care of their kids, and we ought to thank them. She said, if we wanted, we could celebrate a special Parents' Day this weekend. It's something she made up. But she said any day is a good day to thank the people you love and who love you," Christine informed her mother seriously.

"I think Mrs. Atkins is a very smart lady! Her unofficial holiday is an excellent idea," Brennan declared. "Why don't you two climb out of our bed, and let your dad and me get our robes on, and we'll take this tray to the kitchen and we'll all eat together?"

"No, Mommy, we already ate, this is just for you and Daddy," Christine told her happily.

"Bones, getting served breakfast in bed is a very special thing," Booth smiled at his wife with a wink. "We're very lucky to have two thoughtful children who love us enough to get up early and fix this feast! You guys want to go watch cartoons as a treat while your mom and I eat?"

Zach and Christine climbed off the bed and scampered happily downstairs to turn on 'Scooby Doo.'

Oooooooo

And so it was that Brennan and Booth sat up in bed, stuffed the pillows behind their backs, and ate their breakfast out of plastic bowls and sippy cups.

"There's not enough milk in these cups to cover the cereal and give us something to drink too, Booth."

"I know, Bones, we'll just have to get the coffee started when we're done here, and then fix an early lunch so we don't starve to death. But you gotta admit, this is a pretty nice idea to teach children gratitude, and they tried so hard. Look at these paper flowers. How long do you suppose Christine worked on these?"

"Bones, baby, why are you crying?"

"They're just so sweet. And to think, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have any of this, Booth," she waved her hand toward the door, and stopped, unable to speak.

Booth leaned over and hugged her tightly. "Hey, you're the one who gave me two more great kids. I love you too."


	36. Chapter 36 Taste

Chapter 36 Taste

"Bleah! I can't taste a thing! Nor can I talk correctly! I should have known better than to schedule a dental appointment to replace my filling so close to lunch time. The numbing agent the dentist used on my gums before injecting the local anesthetic has a very bitter taste," Brennan complained as she followed Booth into the diner. "Marge, can you just bring me some iced tea, please?"

"No lunch, Bones?" Booth asked with concern.

"I can't feel the left side of my mouth. I don't want to chew on my tongue and possibly lacerate it with my teeth. I will order a salad later this afternoon if I get too hungry."

"I can't believe you can still taste the lidocaine gel after two and a half hours. It didn't bother me at lunch last week, and my appointment was scheduled for the same time slot as yours, 9:30 am. For me, the taste had disappeared quickly. Wonder what the difference is?" Booth mused as he took a big bite of his hamburger. "Sure you don't want a few of my fries?"

"I don't know of any research that has been conducted on the duration of taste sensations on the human tongue," Brennan said. "But when my high school class tested various substances on the different areas of the tongue, I detected the quinine in a smaller concentration than any of my class-mates. And the taste lingered until dinner time. Of course, the other students teased me that I must be a bitter person because I'd sensed the quinine first," she recalled sadly.

"Bones, your classmates were a bunch of Neanderthal dunderheads," Booth assured her.

"Mr. Buxley tried to comfort me the next day. He'd observed the kids teasing me. He said that I must possess very acute skills of observation, to a greater degree than my classmates, and this ability would serve me well if I followed my dream and became a scientist, because observational acuity is vital in conducting research," Bones remembered fondly.

Booth was silent for a few minutes. "You know, when we met him at your old high school in Burtonsville, I thought that guy was very creepy and suspicious. I guess I was very wrong, because he seems to have been rather protective of you when he had the chance, and a good friend."

"Yes, Booth, it just goes to show you shouldn't assess a printed volume by its exterior binding."

"Almost right, Bones….you can't judge a book by its cover."

"That's what I said, Booth!"


	37. Chapter 37 Hands

Chapter 37 Hands

Hank Booth was the elder statesman of checker games in his family. He frequently challenged his friends at Willow River Retirement Center to checkers matches, and more often than not, he'd win. He had just closed his flip phone after a call from his grandson. Booth and his family were on the way for a ritual Sunday afternoon visit. Hank opened his checkers set, flattened the folded board and arranged the red and black wooden disks on either side of the playing surface. Hank grinned to himself remembering past Sunday visits….

Parker was kneeling on a chair in the day room of Hank's retirement center in order to see the checkers board on the table in front of him. Several of Hank's blue-haired lady friends were watching him anxiously. The little boy's balance was rather precarious due to his excited bouncing up and down. Across the table, his great-grandfather was studying the checker board with a serious expression. His wrinkled hand reached for a black disc and slid it forward one square and then waited for Parker's next move. The six-year old had to stand up to lean across the board. His chubby hand scooted a red disk toward Pops. Hank played competitively as Parker grew older, but when he was little, the old man would purposely make erroneous moves to let his great-grandson win. The boy's enthusiasm delighted Hank and his aging buddies.

Christine possessed her mother's competitive spirit from a very early age. By the time she was five, she loved to engage Hank in several checkers games each time Booth and Brennan brought her to visit. She was soon famous among the retirees for her sighs, moans, frowns, and other theatrics when the game didn't go her way. She would cover her eyes with her hands, put her hands on her hips in exasperation, and plunk the checkers down dramatically when resetting the board after she'd lost a match. She hated losing, even to Hank. Because she was 'all girl,' her fingernails were nearly always painted some sparkly pastel color, which made her checkers moves all the more colorful to watch as she gestured with her little hands.

And Zach….that little monkey was so smart that Pops never had to let him win. Parker and Christine were intelligent kids, but Zach was even more advanced for his age. When he was four, he could hold his own against his Pops so well in checkers, that Hank was considering trying to teach him how to play chess. Temperance was in favor of the idea, since Zach had been bugging both her and Max to learn the game. According to Zach, checkers had recently become 'boring' so he declared that he needed a new challenge. His little hands could move the checkers so quickly, it made Pops head spin. He was enormously proud of Zach.

He loved to take walks with the little boy, his small hand clasped tightly in Pops' much larger one. The rosy smoothness of Zach's hand contrasted with his own somewhat gnarled fingers and weathered palms. Just as Parker and Christine had strolled with Hank to his favorite bench in the retirement center's small garden, Zach walked along with his great-grandfather, always full of questions and commentary, and stories about his activities of the past weeks at school. Booth and Brennan loved to watch the patriarch and his playmate interacting. Hank remembered Seeley being similarly curious, clever and entertaining once the little Shrimp had begun to trust and relax just a bit and take comfort from his and Gram's reassuring love.


	38. Chapter 38 Smile

Chapter 38 Smile

A/N: Okay, folks, I must apologize. I got out of sync on the prompt list. My 'Taste' story is out of place, but trying to rearrange chapters could easily lead to my inadvertently deleting something, so I'm opting to let sleeping chapters lie. In case you're intrigued by the origin of such phrases as I am, 'let sleeping dogs lie' was a favorite saying of Sir Robert Walpole, British Prime Minister 1721-42. Also used by Geoffrey Chaucer, and in Proverbs. So it's much older than the American Deep South, which I had assumed was its starting point. This handy fact came from .com, a fascinating web place to waste a few minutes reading minutiae. For all your reviews, thank you so very much.

Bbbbbbbbbbbbb

Smiles. Temperance Brennan could give you all sorts of anthropological facts about the significance of smiles, the muscles employed by a human's face to produce a smile, the physiological benefits of smiling, and other scientific information. At one time in her life, science was about all the significance she attached to smiles. Yes, she'd had friends, and good grades and satisfaction from a high scoring term paper, lab report, or summer dig. So she had smiled sometimes during high school and college. But not often.

And not one of the body-encompassing, all-absorbing, soles of your feet to top of your head smiles like she had grown to love later on. Her favorite smiles in all the world came from Seeley Booth. His warm brown eyes would crinkle slightly, his lips and mouth would curve into a pleasing crescent shape. (Don't get her side-tracked by thoughts of how wonderful that mouth, those lips felt in a kiss…). His broad shoulder would shake in silent laughter, his warm hand might squeeze hers or Parker's or Christine's, his rock-solid abdomen might contract as he reached toward her for an embrace. When Booth smiled, he did so with his whole body. She didn't believe in souls, but she felt she could see the spirit and whole of the man through his observant and caring eyes.

Yes, she thought, Booth's smiles were probably her favorite. Followed closely by those from Parker, whose exuberant greetings and tight hugs had delighted her ever since she'd first met him that lab-quarantine Christmas. Parker's smiles had also comforted her while his father was involved with Hannah. He'd grinned at her when they came to use her apartment's swimming pool. His happy declarations of 'bestest friendship' in spite of other people's cluelessness had meant so much to his dad's lonely hurting partner. Even now, the young boy already shared his father's ability to read people, and sense their needs. (Except when Booth's romantic heart was distracting his famous gut.)

Brennan decided she'd have to enumerate her favorite smiles chronologically because she couldn't possibly rank their importance in her life. They were all vital, crucial, and significant to her. From the standpoint of time, Booth's had come first, then Parker's, then Pops', and then Christine's.

The old man could see right through people straight into what their mouths weren't saying but their hearts and minds were hiding. Her solo visits for dominoes and conversations with him kept her going when Booth was otherwise involved. Pops had smiled at her knowingly, empathetically, wisely. She missed him so much.

Christine's smiles were oh so most special. Baby grins and chortles, drowsy almost-off-to-sleep smiles, soft sated tummy-full-of Mommy's-milk smiles, bath-time glee, storybook joy…..so many variations of happiness shared in her little girl's life. More recently, Brennan cherished her smiles of proud accom-plishment as she gained on the milestones of growing up: art work carefully drawn, shoes painstakingly tied, chores proudly completed, pre-school work properly finished. All wobbly but as perfect as a child can reach.

Of course, she'd experienced and valued other important people's smiles too. From her nearly-sister Angela's, from Hodgins, her fellow scientist and quiet supportive friend, from Cam who'd been boss but became friend, from her various interns in pride and relief at finally gaining her approval, from Max and Russ who'd finally returned to her life, filling in some blanks from empty painful years, from Sweets who was irritating yet a part of her oddly-shaped family.

Temperance Brennan also smiled, to herself, realizing how full and rewarding her life had become. She'd had the fame and accolades of professional achievement and recognition and thought she was content. But now she knew what real contentment and happiness was; her life completed and her potential fulfilled by the addition of friends, love, family, and deep human connections.


	39. Chapter 39 Forever

Chapter 39 Forever

A/N: Okay, so no Bones ownership here. I borrowed from Razztaztic's Roots and Wings universe a bit for this hiatus chapter. It's one of my favorite ways to get lost in Fan Fiction for a while.

"Mom didn't believe in forever," Christine remembered sadly as she straightened up from arranging the daisy bouquet in front of her parents' headstone

"No, but Dad did, enough for both of them, I think," stated Parker, his arm around her shoulder.

"From the wording on this stone, it sure looks like Grandpa Max did," Zach mused. " 'Christine Brennan, beloved mother to Russ and Temperance ~ Ruth Keenan, cherished wife of Max, friend through life, forever adored, missed always, together again for eternity.' "

"Yes, and Great-Grand-Pops certainly did. He always talked about Dad's Grams like she was right there beside him." Parker recalled.

"Well, I'd like to think that Mom and Dad are together, going on somewhere from now on. They loved each other so much, I just can't believe strong emotions and connections like that just fizzle out. Seems to me that the bond they shared, first as partners and friends, and later their romance and marriage vows, was such a significant linking that it will endure beyond their deaths," Christine ventured hopefully.

"From what I saw between them as a kid, and heard from Angela and Hodgins and their other friends, they were in love for years before either one ever said it out loud. They took so long to finally admit to themselves and each other what was so obvious to everyone else around them; that they were firmly, undeniably, inseparably in love with each other. Dad always said he wanted 30 or 40 or 50 years with her, that he knew, he just knew they were meant for each other. And once Bones was honest with herself, she felt the same way. If that kind of love doesn't last forever, nothing will," Parker told her. "I certainly feel that way about Josie."

"Remember Dad telling us that he asked Mom if she believed in Fate when they first met, and she told him that was ridiculous?" Christine asked her brothers. "If I didn't believe there was such a thing as fate from their experience, I sure did when I met Andrew. How else would I have run into the boy our parents saved all those years before Zach or I were even born? For me to have a chance encounter with 'baby Andy' while I was in college, it had to be Fate. We were both away from our homes and our paths had never crossed before. With me studying pre-med and science, and him already being an engineer, there wasn't much overlap there."

"Well, I'm going to be very disappointed if we aren't all reunited one of these days with them, somewhere, somehow!" Zach exclaimed. "So I don't care if Mom didn't buy it, I believe 'forever" is as real as love, and that's that! I don't even want to contemplate a universe where Petra and I can't hang out together for always!"

"It seems the three of us agree about this: This is one time, probably the only time in the history of the world, that Mom got it wrong!" Parker declared.

"Sure makes me feel better!" Christine told him.

"Me too," said Zach, as the three of them linked arms in an awkward triple embrace, and walked back to their cars.


	40. Chapter 40 Devotion

Chapter 40 Devotion

It was Veterans Day again, a day very significant to Special Agent Seeley Booth. Fortunately, it was officially observed as a federal holiday by all government agencies and schools. If it hadn't been, Brennan believed, her husband would have kept his children home from school. As much as he expected his sons and daughter to study hard and obtain a thorough education, she knew he felt this day would provide them with an equally important lesson. She had never asked him about this, because she would never risk Booth misinterpreting her question as disapproval of his personal attachment to this day. Quite to the contrary, she admired his deep devotion to his country, its military service members, and honoring their sacrifices.

Seeley Booth had been raised faithfully observing American patriotic holidays with his family; Memorial Day, Independence Day and Veterans Day. His parents, his Pops and Grams; they'd go to place small flags on veterans' graves in the nearest cemetery and then celebrate with a picnic lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and Coca Cola; the tastes of home which Pops' war buddy had missed the most.

As a weekend custodial father, Booth had continued these yearly traditions with Parker since Rebecca understood his need to do so and always gave him visitation on those holidays. So when Christine and Zach came along, they went along on these family outings in front carriers worn by Brennan, back packs worn by Booth or strollers until they could walk. Few sights were dearer to Pops than that of his tall grandson bending to help each great-grandchild carefully push a miniature flag into the earth in front of the tombstones and grave markers; or Temperance placing flowers there with Christine.

Living in Philadelphia had given Pops the ability to bring Seeley and Jared to several military cemeteries; Gettysburg, Philadelphia, Washington Memorial Chapel churchyard at Valley Forge. Booth had worked for the FBI in New York and visited national cemeteries there. Once he was assigned to Washington DC's office, Booth's proximity to Arlington National Cemetery made his annual pilgrimages much more personal, since Corporal Edward Parker and Ranger Jamie Richards slept therein. Here also were Pop's close buddies and several veteran friends of his dad. Their tragic combat deaths had nonetheless prevented the PTSD traumas which haunted Joseph Booth and scarred his family. Yet his father rarely drank on these holidays, denying his demons to honor brothers in arms.

Brennan mused that Booth's devotion had drawn them together. He admired her dedication; identifying the lost souls in Bone Storage, untangling cadaver puzzles, revealing forensic clues which allowed him to catch 'bad guys' and her stubbornly refusing to give up until she solved mysteries and found answers concealed by victims' bones. She served as his interpreter for science's complex and confounding anagrams. She discovered that he was as fiercely determined as she, to find justice, to protect, to treat others fairly. She didn't think she had an open heart, but he'd known better. She didn't trust easily, had lost her will to do so, but he restored it. She'd never risk loving again, but he made her want to gamble, to leap, to try.

And so, v-e-r-y eventually, the two of them had realized their shared devotion to each other as well. They summoned the nerve and courage to proclaim their love, and from their deep and mutual commitment they built a life together, a family to cherish, a forever to share… .

oooooooooo

Much to Booth's delight and her own great relief, this Veteran's Day had dawned unseasonably warm and sunny. They'd take the children's coats and pack some warmer wear for insurance, but there would be no chattering teeth, impossibly-chewy peanut butter or icy Coke this year.

Brennan pulled out of her reverie, slapped the last slice of bread atop its peanut buttered mate, wrapped and placed it in the cooler next to cans of Coke she didn't protest, closed the lid, and walked out the front door where Booth had just snapped the last car seat buckle, turned to offer her a smiling kiss, and off they went to Arlington and Teddy.


	41. Chapter 41 Blood

Chapter 41 Blood

The Federal Employees Credit Union was sponsoring a blood drive. Cam was approached to approve the Jeffersonian staff, interns, and scientists participating if they wished. Cam herself was personally slender enough that attempting to donate blood in the past had made her faint dead away, frightening the technicians who told her some people below the acceptable body weight can tolerate blood donations but assured her that she didn't fall into this category, and to refrain from trying again. For that reason she called a quick meeting in her office and informed her crew that they were free to donate but made it clear she would not appreciate them missing work due to passing out.

She knew the FBI was participating, and that Seeley Booth would be the first in line. Some years before, the FBI itself had sponsored a blood drive and Booth had been razzed unmercifully for not pushing his department over the top. He never mentioned that he had already donated his maximum to help a friend suffering with leukemia. Just as he had quietly organized the fund-raising carnival for neurofibromatosis research at Washington's Children's Hospital, while telling Bones not to divulge his project to anyone. Cam knew her friend of 20 years took to heart the exhortation in Mathew 6:3, not letting your left hand know what good your right hand is doing. She wondered how Dr. Brennan, as pragmatic as she was, would view the blood donation drive being held during work hours. She imagined that Temperance might fret that it was taking time away from their most critical work. Brennan, she knew, was fiercely passionate about restoring identities for lost souls to give their families peace and solving the crimes whose perpetrators sent a steady stream of cadavers to her lab. She was as passionate as Booth about giving justice to murdered citizens.

Cam was not surprised when the male interns and Dr. Hodgins volunteered immediately. She was a bit amazed when Angela signed up. Michael Vincent was old enough that she was no longer nursing him, but Angela was more squeamish than the others, and Cam silently applauded her fortitude. Dr. Brennan would probably have donated out of both arms simultaneously if that was allowed, in order to do her fair share efficiently and return to her work forthwith.

Cam mused to herself, as the others left her office, that blood was a marvelous thing. It powered the human body, provided proof of family relationships and lineage, outted the drug users in society, restored health to ailing patients, and gave her people clues to how a violent death might have occurred. Yes, she smiled to herself, the human body itself was beautiful and amazing, even if it lost its appeal when it began to decompose. And then, taking a deep breath of the clean fresh air in her office, she stood up, squared her shoulders, and strode out the door. She had an appointment to keep. For over in her autopsy suite, another person awaited her skill and insight to divulge his last secrets. She thanked her lucky stars that the Jeffersonian air filtration system was so very effective. She had become inured to unpleasant odors during her medical career, but that didn't mean she relished them.


	42. Chapter 42 LIfe

Chapter 42 Life

Booth and Brennan sat in the sunny yellow nursery watching their infant daughter in her white crib.

The baby seemed oblivious to her parents, absorbed in her own little world. "Not unlike her mother," Both chuckled to himself. When Temperance Brennan examines whatever skeleton has requested her undivided attention, her single-minded powers of concentration remind him of sunlight focused on grass through a magnifying glass. The heat becomes so intense, a fire ignites. Bones' dedicated search for clues rivals that of the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew, he thinks.

ooooooooooooooooo

Christine giggles in delight and distracts his reverie. She has recently discovered her toes and spends as much time as she can manage grabbing them in an attempt to taste them. Apparently toe a la mode or foot aperitif is the flavor of the month for discerning diners under the age of six months. Booth fondly remembers Parker at this age. He wasn't able to spend a lot of time with his son back then, but Rebecca had a three-hour evening law class one night a week and pressed him into service as Parker's babysitter. For once in his life before meeting Bones, Seeley Booth had lived up to his less than favorite first name. He was happy. Those three hours on Wednesday evening were the highlight of his week. No matter what conundrum he faced on the job, he'd find himself grinning whenever he thought about Parker. The two of them played, and read, and sang, and hugged, and did all manner of silly things. The feel of Parker's chubby little arms around his neck and his silky hair against Booth's cheek were the sweetest sensations on earth. These moments were less frequent than he wished, but the always eager but seldom satisfied young father treasured every one.

oooooooooooooooooo

And now, eleven years later, he was a father again, with the love of his life beside him, despite their unconventional mating bonds. Parker's babyhood had been wonderful, but this time was perfect. The three interminable months Bones was on the run with Christine had reinforced his awareness that childhood's miracles are fleeting. He meticulously filed each precious memory away as a snapshot emblazoned on his grateful mind and heart. Seeley Booth knew, from watching and listening to Pops, that the sunset years of life are spent recalling, reliving, and relishing the joys of one's past. And he was determined to insure he didn't miss a one. He smiled from ear to ear watching Christine's antics.

oooooooooooooooooo

Brennan's contemplation of her child's foot and finger play was a bit more analytical than her husband's. She carefully noted each accomplished milestone, each developmental stage conquered by her daughter. She cataloged them away, as memories, yes, but as achievements too. She loved Christine beyond reason, and was exuberantly relieved and proud that she and Booth had created such a sweet-natured, intelligent, adorable child.

oooooooooooooooooooo

All her life, she had restrained her emotions, afraid of being hurt. She had pursued education as the only sure means of escape from the misery of lonely abandonment. She HAD to insure that she could provide for and take care of herself because she had no one else to rely on to accomplish this task. The people who were supposed to be caring for her were ignoring or mistreating her instead. There was no one invested in her life, its success or failure, its continuance. She could only count on herself. Years later, when she finally trusted Booth and herself enough to let herself admit to the attraction, the love, the irrefutable bond between them, her heart burst forth into light and sunshine, released from the shadows of uncertainty. She treasured each day with Booth, each hour with Christine, each moment with Parker because she had known the ache of no one. No one to care, no one to be there, no one to love.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Her observation of Christine's play was more serious than Booth's but no less enjoyed. She loved this life she had now. She felt incredibly lucky, and well, if she admitted it to herself deep down inside, she felt blessed to have this life, this friend, this partner, this husband, this lover, this child. She could never have foreseen or predicted this life for herself, but she appreciated it beyond words. When she let herself relax, her unconscious smiles were body-deep, and Booth's favorite things to study when she was unaware of him watching. He would give his life for her and their child, he had resolutely vowed he would give her the life she had lacked as a girl, he would give his son and daughter the life he had dreamed of as a child.

oooooooooooooooooooooo

Booth and Brennan had once found a way to break the laws of physics, had once realized that they were one person with two essential halves. Together they were completed, apart they were fractured. Their life was perfect.


	43. Chapter 43 Weakness

Chapter 43 Weakness

No owning of Bones was used in the concoction of this story.

"Oh, how I miss your grandma's strawberry-rhubarb pie," Pops sighed as the clan sat down to Sunday dinner. "And her sour cream raisin pie. Lordy, how that woman could cook! I think my greatest weakness were Margaret's pies. All of them. Temperance, honey, the lasagna smells wonderful. I might just have to develop a new weakness with you around!"

"Pops, I don't think you cook pies, you bake them," ventured Parker with a grin. "We had those words in our vocabulary list in third grade, and there is a difference. You bake sweet things, you cook everything else!"

"Ah, Parker, you are not entirely correct," Brennan ribbed the boy gently. 'You know how I always remind your father and you that I adore pie like he does, because I don't like my fruit cooked? You have to cook the fruit to soften it before you add all the sugar and other ingredients to make pie filling. Then you are correct. Once the sweet filling is spread over the crust, the pie is baked to complete it. So creating a pie actually involves both methods of food preparation; cooking and baking."

"Tempe, you sound like Julia Childs, so technical and precise," laughed her father. "Your mother always contended if you could read, you could cook. That it was as simple as falling off a log."

"Dad, cooking does involve reading and scientific precision, since ingredients are most often measured. I'll grant you some very experienced cooks can eyeball amounts with surprising accuracy. It has always thrown me for a loop, I've tried not measuring when I cook, and the results are not appetizing. That, as you know, was another one of Mom's frequent expressions. My memories of her cooking are rather vague except for her blueberry pancakes. I loved them as a child, and those are still my weakness, I suppose. That and snickerdoodles," she smiled at her father.

"Well, I agree with Pops, my weakness is pie, any kind of pie," Booth declared around a mouthful of lasagna. "That and Bones' homemade macaroni and cheese with nutmeg. That's heaven on earth!" he grinned across the table at Brennan.

"Yup, Dad, you're right, Bones' mac and cheese is out of this world," Parker agreed. "Mom is a great cook, but she only makes me mac and cheese out of the box, and it's just not the same."

"Christine's weakness is not strained peas, or carrots, or any kind of baby vegetable, it seems. Organic or otherwise," Brennan frowned slightly at her child, who had just rolled another mouthful of strained peas out with her flexible little tongue. "I'm afraid she's taking after her daddy. Her weakness seems to be applesauce and baby bananas –plain or with rice cereal."

"Well, one weakness I DON'T share with you is tofu, Bones. I'm not sure who first decided to mistreat soy beans that way, but I wish they'd just left the poor little guys alone! Tofu is yucky!" Booth proclaimed.

"Booth, you sound like a five year old. Soy beans are not anthropomorphic. And what kind of example is that to set for your daughter?" Brennan made a face at him, as he leaned over to kiss her. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses. And I guess a fondness for certain foods is not a bad weakness to have. It's much better than not being able to shoot straight. Which reminds me, Booth, I still want a gun! I am a very good shot!"


	44. Chapter 44 Wind

Chapter 44 Wind

Nope, no Bones owned here in this corner of the Fan Fiction sandbox.

Parker had always loved to fly kites. He had spent many a Saturday afternoon, at the park with his father hanging on to the string for dear life as a colorful kite bobbed in the sky over his head. When he was small, Booth would launch it into the air for him, holding it high over his head and giving it a good strong toss to catch the breeze. Now that he was older, they brought two kites and competed to see whose would stay aloft the longest.

Now that Christine was old enough, Parker had experienced the big-brother fun of introducing her to his favorite spring pastime with their dad. They made a big production of taking her to the nearest Wal-mart to procure new kite kits one Saturday when Parker was spending the weekend with Booth and Brennan. Christine chose a My Little Pony kite, and Parker selected a Batman one for old times' sake. Their dad picked out a colorful Captain America kite at Parker's urging. It reminded him of when his dad had called Brent, Rebecca's boy friend, Captain Fantastic. Christine told him it looked like the Fourth of July, so it was a little early for that type of kite, but she liked the flag colors and decided it was a good choice, deigning to give Daddy his little princess's royal approval.

Having packed folding chairs, lemonade, water, granola bars and carrot sticks into the SUV earlier that morning, Booth tossed the sack holding their purchases into the back and made sure Christine was properly buckled into her car seat. He and Parker had decided to try a different park which had a wide open field in whithey could run without being impeded by overhanging tree branches, so that Christine would have an easier time flying her first kite with a optimal chance of success. On this particular Saturday, the wind was fairly strong, with gusty updrafts just perfect for kite enthusiasts. The three of them sat down on a blanket Parker had spread out under a tree and got to work with the sticks and paper, assembling their kites.

Brennan had sent along glue sticks and plenty of tape, cellophane, masking and duct tape to insure sturdy building results. It took a good forty-five minutes to get everything ready. They might have worked faster, but Parker wanted to give Christine a chance to do as much by herself as she could. He still had fond vivid memories of his dad patiently overseeing his clumsy youthful efforts. This many years later, he realized that the work made the experience all the sweeter. The thrill of achievement added to the excitement of seeing your creation bobbling around in the sky. He had finished his kite quickly, but didn't say so to give Christine the opportunity to believe she was first.

Booth seated one of Christine's slats a bit more securely, and put the finishing touches on his own patriotic kite. He rose to his feet, his knees protesting, and gave Christine a big grin. "Ready,honey? Let's go get these babies into the air!"

"They're not babies, Daddy, they're kites. Mommy would say you can't fly a baby because it might get hurt from falling."

"She thinks just like her mother, and absorbs everything Bones does. What a little sponge!" thought Booth. He wished that Brennan had come along this morning, but he knew she was trying to meet a deadline for her latest book, and so he didn't press her.

"Come on, Daddy, let's go get my ponies flying!"

"If you can't fly babies, how can you fly ponies?" Booth asked her with a serious expression on his face

"Daddy they're pretend ponies, just paper. Not real ones, silly. And anyway, they'd have to be unicorns with wings to be able to fly!" Christine looked at him disapprovingly, as if daddies were supposed to know such things without having to be told.

"Okay, Chrissy, here goes. Hold the reel of string in one hand and grab the bottom point of the kite with your other hand, hold it over your head, run a little and give it a good toss!" Booth took his kite and demonstrated for her, but didn't release it. He watched as she gave a good imitation of what he had showed her. The kite promptly took a nose-dive into the grass.

"Try it again, honey," he encouraged her. After several failed attempts, Christine's kite caught a breeze and took flight briefly before fluttering to earth again. "See, you did it!" Booth exclaimed.

"It fell again, Daddy, " the disappointed little girl said. "I'm not very good at this!"

"Chrissy, you got it up after only four tries. The first time Dad took me, I had to try it eight times before I got mine to fly at all! You're doing really good!" Parker encouraged her.

A few more attempts didn't go too well, but finally Christine's hot pink, yellow and lime green kite took off. It stayed up and rose steadily. "Look, Parker, I did it!" she cried happily.

"You sure did, Chris! I'm proud of you! You didn't give up, and now your kite is way up there in the sky," Parker told her.

She flew it several more times, then walked to the blanket and addressed her father. "Daddy, can I have a drink of lemonade and some carrots. I'm kind of tired."

"Sure, honey. Why don't you drink one of these juice boxes and sit down with your carrots? You want to watch Parker and I have a race?"

"Oh, yeah, Dad!"

The wind had picked up as Parker tossed his kite into the air, followed quickly by his father. The two kites rose higher and higher, diving and swooping back and forth. The two of them ran along, feeding out the string to allow their kites to gain altitude. They steered the kites a little to keep them in the area around Christine, so they could also keep an eye on her.

Just then, Parker caught sight of a familiar figure striding toward them. "Bones! I didn't think you were coming!"

"Hi, Mommy! I flied my kite! It's real windy and the ponies got very high up in the sky!"

"You flew your kite, Christine, not flied. What a pretty kite, it's very colorful," said Bones leaning over to hug her beaming daughter

"Parker, I didn't mention coming as I didn't want to possibly disappoint you all, and I wasn't sure how much progress I'd make on my book, but my writing went much faster than I expected , and I should meet my deadline for the publisher to review on schedule. Since I accomplished more than I thought I would, I decided to surprise you all and come see how the kite flying is going. I also packed some drinks and sandwiches in case you are hungry. That's a pointless conjecture. I know you are hungry. Growing boys your age are always hungry, aren't they?" Brennan asked with a grin.

"Bones! You made it! I thought you might try to come," Booth said happily, walking over to kiss his wife. "You got here at a good time; the wind is even gustier than it was, so Parker and I are going to have another contest to see whose kite stays up longest. You're just in time to watch and cheer us on."

"Well, Booth, I will be glad to encourage both your competitive efforts, but I'm certainly not going to take sides. I could never favor you over Parker, nor him over you, If you are amenable to those terms, I will be happy to be your peanut gallery. "

"Cheering section, Bones, not peanut gallery. That's from Howdy Doody."

"I know, Booth, that's why I interjected it into our conversation. Russ and I used to enjoy the reruns on Saturday morning television each week. We found Clara Belle quite amusing. She communicated very effectively despite never speaking."

"Of course, you did, you love classic TV shows as much as old movies, right Bones?" Booth smiled fondly.

"When you and Parker have held a few kite races, you may each compete against me," announced Brennan slyly.

"How, Mommy? You don't have a kite to fly."

"Oh, but I do, Christine, and you are going to help me build it, now that Daddy and Parker showed you how. I stopped at the Kmart and purchased one before I arrived at the park," Brennan informed her, pulling a red, yellow, and blue kite kit from her bag.

'Who is it, Mommy?" Chrstine asked.

"I bet Dad knows without even looking," chortled Parker as his father grinned at him."Yup, I was right; Wonder Woman!"

"Who else could it be?" Booth laughed.

And the little family spent the rest of the afternoon watching colorful kites fill the sky.


	45. Chapter 45 Sun

Chapter 45 Sun

Nope, still don't own Bones.

Temperance Brennan turned her face up to the sun as the nurse wheeled her out of Washington General Hospital. She had been shot in Bone Storage while wearing her magnifying headgear. She'd taken refuge from her spat with Booth by immersing herself in the one activity that never failed to calm her; handling the bones, feeling, listening, sensing their silent message. The days she'd spent in the hospital had all been gloomy and overcast with cold dreary rain. While the white hospital room didn't lack for lighting, its sterile atmosphere had seemed oppressively sad.

So being outdoors for the first time in three weeks raised her spirits enormously. She carefully took a slightly deeper breath than she had been recently, wishing to fill her lungs with real air and the scents of the District, but not wanting to relive the painful respiratory exercises she'd been urged to do by the hospital therapists. This hospital stay had been unusual and different from earlier ones.

She'd seen her mother, had found herself in the living room of her childhood, staring at the ugly floral sofa. Well, she guessed her confused mind had concocted a vision of her mother. The experience seemed so real, but… convinced as she was that eternity didn't exist, was a silly myth, she couldn't explain or account for her vision. Her father had taken her experience at face value; he'd wistfully asked what her mom had said, recognized her "throw you for a loop" expression, obviously still missing her sorely after long years apart. Max seemed convinced that she had, in fact, seen and talked to her mother.

Booth had refused to leave her side, wracked with guilt over their argument, pleading for her to recovery. It had been an anxious three weeks. Even the circumstances of her injury were confusing. Hodgins had struggled to identify the bullet that wounded her. His quirky genius brain finally found the riddle's answer. The blood bullet was hideously ingenious. Dr. Batuhan in the Restoration Department was a treacherous wretch with a penchant for inventing devious weapons out of seemingly harmless workplace tools and hideous bullets out of abnormal materials. Blood, normally a life-affirming substance, had nearly snuffed hers out.

In her dream, her parents' living room had been flooded with sunlight and her mom's message had given her hope. "It's time to use your heart, and rediscover some of that little girl you used to be. It's time for you to live life fully, Tempe, not just survive." When she finally managed to wrench the front door open, she'd seen blindingly brilliant light. Was it sunshine, she wondered, or celestial light as Booth would have believed? She was left with more questions than answers. Left with a sense that her belief in only the universe might not be sufficient anymore.

She had resolved to herself since her vision to take her mother's advice to heart. The cramped, dank, stifling darkness of that trunk her foster parents had locked her in years ago still gave her nightmares of claustrophobia. The sunlit day of her hospital release seemed like a good omen, if one actually believed in such things. All Temperance Brennan knew for sure was that she had been granted a second chance for happiness, for living, for relishing each tiny treasure of life, from sunlight to sunset and everything each day offered in between. She almost felt she'd been reborn, with the same sense of immense relief, exhilaration, and profound gratitude she experienced when Booth grasped her hand and pulled her from the buried car. Emerging into sunlight.


	46. Chapter 46 Wonder

Chapter 46 Wonder

No ownership of Bones was used in creating this story.

Booth was in a silly mood this April Fool's Day. He and Christine had arisen early to make breakfast for Bones- with a twist. They tinted her scrambled eggs green, the butter for her toast pink, and her applesauce blue. The inspiration for their prank was Christine's current favorite book Green Eggs and Ham. Their little girl pointed out to her mother that they could have been more accurate if she would eat ham, but they all knew that was never going to happen. Fortunately for Booth, Brennan had accepted her breakfast in the spirit of good fun. His wife would never berate their daughter for the joke, but he'd worried a bit about what fallout it might cause for him.

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Booth was seated at his desk, coffee in hand, staring at a stack of cold case files he needed to review. He and Brennan were developing a training program to increase the solve rate of other investigative teams within the FBI Major Crimes Unit. While important, this paperwork part of his job was a 'bummer' to quote Parker. He was an action kind of guy. So for a moment, Booth turned his thoughts to another aspect of their program. He and Bones shared a passion for finding the truth. He needed to evoke this in their trainees.

They needed curiosity and a sense of wonder. Two unrelated ideas, you might say? Not really. Scientists and cops are both curious people. What makes an atom work? How does the human body function? How do insects speed decomposition? What are particulates? What makes a criminal's mind tick? What are their motives? What prompts them to do terrible things without remorse until facing a jail sentence? The curiosity sparks a dedicated search for clues, answers, and truth.

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Booth remembered his days of sniper training. He'd been impressed with the power of his rifle, fascinated by the accuracy of its scope, soberly aware that his assignments involved killing people. But he was also in awe. The incredible combination of science, engineering, machining, and craftsmanship which made long-range precision shots possible astounded him. In addition to superb training and skill, Booth possessed a sharp intellect, and a sensitive conscience. He felt the burden of responsibility thrust upon him with each shot he took. Realizing the gravity of his actions was part of what made him a top-notch sniper. No one in his job could afford to 'go off half-cocked.' A sense of wonder at the power of his weapon was essential.

The other vital ingredient for successful agents was respect for the skill of scientists, both at the Jeffersonian and in the FBI crime labs, thought Booth. And here his mind turned to his partner…. He held Bones in awe from the first day they met. He never lost his sense of wonder where she was concerned. He and Bones held diametric views of existence and life. His embraced the spiritual, hers denied it. Metaphorically they should never have connected. But they did—and deeply.

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Temperance Brennan was doing something else unusual this spring. She had agreed to teach an anthropology class at Christine's high school. It was a zero hour special offering from 7:00 to 8:30 am twice weekly during the semester. It was open to adults and students alike. It meant that she arrived at the Jeffersonian a little later those mornings, but she felt it was worthwhile. It had been proposed as an extension of the Jeffersonian's wildly popular children's after-school program in which Parker had participated.

Brennan was pleased to offer her love and knowledge of science to others. Thrilled to share her passion with her daughter in an academic setting. And Christine was beyond excited at the prospect of attending her mother's new class. Her mother was already somewhat famous at the school for two reasons. First for being a world-renowned scientist and accomplished crime novelist, and second, for being the most persnickety parent ever to attend a Back to School Night or Parent Teacher Conference in the history of the world. Christine had heard stories from Angela of her mother's interactions with the Jeffersonian day-care staff, and Brennan's expectations of perfection from anyone working with her children had never wavered or decreased.

The school faculty appreciated Dr. Brennan's contributions to their enrichment program, but not necessarily her opinion of their competence. Finally, Christine thought, people could experience her mom close up and realize how special she was.

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Brennan also sat in her office this morning. Her tongue stained a variety of colors from the unique and whimsical breakfast she'd been served. It was fortunate Booth and Christine surprised her in the kitchen or their 600-threadcount bedsheets might be looking like her tongue about now. As she finalized her syllabus for the course which started next week, Brennan was distracted by amused affectionate thoughts of her husband. Booth was her favorite puzzle; part brave man; part starry-eyed little boy. She never got over wondering how she'd been so lucky to cross paths with him. He had displaced science as her first love. She held them both in awe.

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Brennan remembered vividly her first encounter with bones. She had always been fascinated by science, prompted by her father in elementary school. Max had supplemented her science classes at home. He did simple experiments with her, introduced her to star-gazing, taught her the constellations, gave her a telescope. He'd showed her backyard plant and animal life, changes in weather, the fun of chemisty. Parker wasn't the only one who loved exploding bottles of soda pop reaching the sky. (Her mother had strictly forbidden this experiment anywhere in the house.)

Later on, as a lonely mistreated teenager, she lost herself in science classes, a sole pleasant link to her past. The complex symphony of chemistry within the human body enthralled her. Education was the key to escaping her misery. Paying for college on her own meant lean years of odd jobs, scanty meals, and shoddy apartments.

Yet the deeper she probed into science, the greater her awe. Anatomy, physiology, morphology; she relished each class. But dissecting was what got her 'hooked on science.' She'd endured the muck of muscle, fat, and skin. Necessary but messy. The bones, however, were pristine and solid. Something she could metaphorically hold on to.

Anthropology linked science to history. The mix of social mores and physical existence was riveting to her. Temperance Brennan's sense of wonder was triggered by dusty bones. First in college museum display cases, later in excavated trenches.

She loved going on digs. Forensic anthropology was a prism into the past of her human race. How did they live? How did they die? What happened to them? What events occurred along their way through life? Cataclysmic loss or fortuitous survival? Temperance Brennan could not have predicted her nickname, but she knew she'd found her calling in the bones she studied assiduously.

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Having encountered the physically handsome, verbally effusive, abdominally-prompted FBI Agent, Brennan had been flummoxed. Did she believe in Fate, he'd asked? Of course not, ludicrous! He surprised her, irritated her, attracted her, annoyed her. He was a conundrum of everything she scoffed at. But his spiritual, emotional, gut-driven approach worked for him as well as her analytical scientific rational method did for her. She tried to ignore, forget, bypass, avoid him. It wasn't possible. His persistence and her exasperated fascination wouldn't let her.

He was so different from her, but he was intense, honest, dedicated—all attributes she admired. And required of those around her. Most people didn't measure up. But he did. His truth wasn't her truth. But she saw that he sought it as passionately as she did. They shouldn't have clicked but they did. Synchronized; well- not always—but _They _worked. She was in awe of him; he evoked her sense of wonder repeatedly, though she tried to deny it and it took her years to admit it.

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And so it was that their silent duet of mutual admiration finally led them to the same truth; they were better together than apart, that somehow their strange partnership worked-on multiple levels, professional and personal. They completed each other. They were led to a single truth: that two had become one, physics had to be denied, they were in love. And that was the deepest reason for their success.


	47. Chapter 47 Soliloquy

Chapter 47 Soliloquy

Christine Booth loved tea parties. She had been introduced to this rite of femininity by Angela. Her honorary aunt loved her own child Michael Vincent better than life itself, but she longed for a little daughter as well as her adorable curly-headed son. One Saturday afternoon Angela had convinced Brennan to accompany her to a vintage Washington tea room with Christine in tow, all three of them dressed in fancy dresses and large floppy-brimmed straw hats which the artist had decked with silk flowers and ribbons. Brennan, of course, considered this expedition an utter waste of her time, but she respected Angela's opinions and loved her metaphorical sister enough to indulge her request. To her mother's chagrinned surprise, Christine had reveled in the whole 'fancy, lacy, fluffy, ruffle-y' experience.

So her new favorite pastime at home was recreating these tea parties in her room. She had a child-sized table and chairs (at which Brennan would have preferred to build models of the periodic table and atoms). She would arrange her dolls, stuffed animals, and even some of Parker's old Transformer toys, whose presence was required as proper escorts for the ladies. She frequently recruited her mother, or father, or both to attend these imaginative soirees. She would pour them 'tea' and serve them cookies or cakes, all the while carrying on an animated conversation with the guests both living and pretend. If her mother allowed her real cookies, so much the better. But using imaginary desserts didn't dampen her enthusiasm in the slightest. Whenever her great-grand-Pops or Grandpa Max were available, they were enchanted to be her guests.

Booth and Brennan had recently discovered, however, that a lack of living breathing human guests didn't hamper Christine's parties at all. She was perfectly content to serve tea and sweets to her toys, chattering all the while. This amused her parents greatly, and they would occasionally slip quietly up to her doorway and stand out of view, listening intently and shaking with silent laughter at her creative imagination.

One weekend, several months after Booth's return home from prison, they had an unexpected revelation from these hallway observations. Christine's conversations were not always just whimsical chatter. Standing in the hall, Booth overheard some very astute wisdom from the mouth of his little girl.

"Uncle Sweets, do you want one or two sugars for your tea? Oh, you're 'allagic' to chocolate now? That's too bad, it's my most favorite treat. Auntie Daisy says baby Seeley is too little for chocolate milk or cake, either one. Have you seen him lately? He is getting so big. Daddy says he'll be able to join the FBI soon if he keeps growing so fast."

"Pops, you want some coffee, not tea? Okay, let me fix you some. You know I wish you could come visit us. Daddy is very sad that you went away. Maybe you could come over at bedtime and read him and me a story. Daddy really misses you."

"Bunny Rabbit, I'm sorry to hear that your aunt isn't feeling well and had to miss your birthday party. You know, you could have pretended that she was there. When my daddy was gone away last summer, my Uncle Sweets told me to pretend he was here playing with me, and it would make me feel better. I tried that, and it kinda did make me feel happy for a little while. "

Booth tiptoed downstairs and found Brennan in the kitchen. "Come up here and listen to what Christine is saying!" he urged her.

After listening a few more minutes, Brennan knocked on the door frame of their daughter's room. "Christine, honey, can Daddy and I come join your tea party for a few minutes?"

"Sure, Mommy. Here's some tea for you and Daddy. Do you want a cookie?"

"Baby, Chrissy," Booth began. He crouched down so he was at her eye level.

"Daddy, I am not a baby anymore," Christine reminded him adamantly.

"Okay, sorry, honey, who were you talking to? You know Uncle Sweets is in heaven and he can't come back to see you, right?"

"Yes, Daddy, but when you were gone for so long, Uncle Sweets told me if I pretended you were here with me, it might make me feel better. I tried it, and it did. He said I could talk to you just like when you were home, and you would know what I said. Maybe you should try it with Great Grand Pops. I know you are sad he went to heaven. It might make you happy."

Booth couldn't speak. He could only gather his little daughter into his arms and bury his face in her baby-shampoo fragrant hair. After all the times he'd called Sweets 'a twelve-year-old, the kid had cherished and protected his child while he was in jail, and Lance had imparted a gem of astute insight to the little girl who loved him back. Brennan stood over him, tears in her eyes, put her arm around his shoulders and then began rubbing slow circles across his tensed muscles, as he had done for her so many times.

Sometimes, she thought, the soliloquies of little children offer more wisdom than the philosophers of antiquity.


	48. Chapter 48 Question

Chapter 48 Question

No Bones owned by anyone here.

"Dad, can I ask you something?" sixteen-year old Christine asked hesitantly, pulling on the end of her pony tail, in a gesture he'd seen Brennan do many times.

"Sure, Chrissy-cakes, you know you can always ask me anything, What's up?" Booth replied _"Geez, she looks so much like Bones, she sounds like Bones, she even has the same mannerisms as Bones, I'm doubly blessed to have these two, like momma, like daughter. Whoever marries her someday better realize how lucky he is! Like maybe when she's 40!" he mused to himself._

"Dad?"

"Sorry, honey, it's just you look so much like your mom, and you've gotten so grown up, sometimes it just gets to me."

"Oh, Daddy…."

"So what'd ya need to know, punkin'?"

"There's a Sadie Hawkins Dance coming up, and I'd kind of like to ask Michael Vincent, because I'm not really dating any one yet, and he's my best friend; well my best friend who's not a girl…do you think that would be weird? I don't want to make him uncomfortable, or feel like he has to say yes, if he really doesn't want to go with me. I just can't decide, but dressing up like Lil' Abner characters sounds like fun, and Aunt Angela always comes up with such creative costume ideas. Michael is so artistic, I thought he might enjoy working on them with me. I've learned to sew in Teen Ecology class and I'd like to try making mine."

"Sounds like you've given this a lot of thought, and by the way, you're not dating til you're at least 30. I think you and Michael Vincent are good enough friends that if he felt awkward going with you, he'd say so. You could just go as friends if a date makes him nervous. No one else needs to know what you two work out between yourselves. Why don't you just ask him what he thinks about your idea?"

"It's just so hard to know what to say. Did you get nervous asking Mom out the first time?"

Booth chuckled, "Honey, your mom and I worked together and became friends years before I ever worked up the nerve to ask her out. But we ate Thai food together doing paperwork to finish our cases at night at one of our apartments, we kind of took turns. She'd get so wrapped up in her skeletons that she'd forget to eat lunch, so I'd go to the lab and drag her away to the diner for her tofurkey wraps and edamame milkshakes. We spent so much time together we may as well have been dating for years, except without the holding hands and ….well, you know."

"Dad, I'm not a baby," Christine laughed. "Mom's right, you're a puritan when it comes to talking about sex. And I'm not waiting til I'm 30, thank you very much….so you think it would be okay to ask Michael?"

"I think he'd be a fool to turn you down, and no son of Hodgins and Angela is any fool!" Booth declared. "And if he does, there are a lot of other guys in your classes; aren't you friends with any of them? You could get a group together and go that way, some guys and some girls, maybe that would be more comfortable. Don't kids do that some these days?"

"Yes, thanks, Daddy," Christine leaned over and hugged him. "You've given me some good ideas. You're always easier than Mom to talk to about this stuff, even though you're a dad. She'd have to explain the puberty and pre-mating rituals of the Arbawaki tribe to me."

"Christine, there is no such tribe as the Arbawaki," Brennan commented, strolling in from the kitchen.

"Mom! I didn't know you were home!" Christine gulped. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Honey, you didn't. And you're right. I could always ask your father anything about anything. He was my best friend and the person who made me feel comfortable and safe from very early in our partnership. He is a very wise and wonderful person," Brennan assured her daughter.

"Awww, Bones, now you're embarrassing me!" Booth sputtered." But I love you too!"

He grabbed both his girls and gave them a bear hug. "Did you remember my beef jerky? I need a snack and the Flyers game is coming on!"


	49. Chapter 49 Whiskey and Rum

Chapter 49 Whiskey and Rum

No Bones owned by anybody in this neck of the woods.

Angela decided the Jeffersonian needed to throw a party. It had been too long since the scientists had partied, and 'all work was making her Jack a dull boy' she chuckled to herself. She took her inspiration from Hodgin's Founder's Day celebration when he used his pricey new hotly-contested-by-Cam lab equipment to concoct tequila and guacamole. She decided to make it a luau in honor of an exhibition of native Hawaiian culture being held to showcase new artifacts the Jeffersonian had received. The priceless pieces' timespan encompassed the reign of _Queen Liliuokalani_ (1838-1917) and her family, the Kamehameha dynasty. This clan had ruled Hawaii as a unified kingdom since 1810. The queen had believed it was her responsibility to preserve the islands she ruled for their native people. She was still revered by the Hawaiian people.

Brennan had consulted on a two-month dig excavating Polynesian natives' bones the previous summer, Booth accompanying her to oversee Jeffersonian staff security. Christine had been left in the care of Angela and Hodgins, with Max as a back-up sitter when the couple wanted a break from their lively son and his best buddy 'Kissy' as Michael Vincent called Christine. The toddler duo's non-stop antics had sparked reconsideration of their planned second pregnancy. Perhaps Michael would be just fine as an only child.

Angela delegated responsibilities for various aspects of the party to her co-workers and interns. She decreed that everyone's attire must match her Hawaiian theme; if not grass skirts and native dress, then at the very least, they could don Hawaiian print shirts. She charged Jack to decorate his Ookie Room as a beach village, with some help from Daisy and Sweets. While not thrilled with this situation and saddened that Zach wasn't there to participate, Jack loved his Angie and gamely undertook implementing his wife's design concepts. The elaborate island paradise she envisioned began to take shape.

Cam spent a good bit of time hovering to insure that Jeffersonian lab equipment didn't suffer from this Montenegro-Hodgins flight of tropical fantasy. She was secretly hopeful that Angela's idea would come to fruition because it could provide a relevant festive fundraising gala during the Kamehameha exhibit. The lab crew were guinea pigs working the kinks out of Angela's party idea.

Hodgins also set to work preparing some whiskey and rum at home using a still that his grandfather had obtained during Prohibition from some tax agents he knew. These 'revenoo-ers' raided many moonshine production sites in West Virginia and the distilling equipment Archibald Hodgins had selected was authentic, skillfully constructed of solid copper, and meticulously maintained despite its 'hillbilly' origins. His grandson had followed the vintage recipes with scientific precision; distilled the rum twice, the whiskey once, and each batch turned out extremely well. Then Hodgins tried his hand at distilling some Scotch for Booth. It was intended as a surprise for the Agent from his lab-squint friends.

On the appointed afternoon, shortly before 4 pm, Booth dressed in a flowery multi-colored Hawaiian-themed shirt, and Brennan forced herself to don a grass skirt to please her dearest friend and metaphorical sister. The couple encountered Jack Hodgins looking like Maynard G. Krebs on 'Gilligan's Island.' A boisterous and enjoyable time was had by the Jeffersonian crew and office workers, and even some of Booth's fellow FBI agents and staff wandered through the lavishly-decorated Ookie Room. The party lasted til 6:13 pm since the Jeffersonian daycare closed at 6:30.

That evening Booth remarked to Brennan, "That wasn't the best Scotch I ever tasted, but it was better than I expected. Hodgins' grandfather must have spent a bundle to obtain the original Irish and Scotch recipes. They are a highly-guarded secret in the Celtic Isles. Jack probably lost a lot of sleep over the last few months. Distilling liquor is very labor-intensive and demands precise timing, according to Pops."

"Well, Booth, I thought the party turned out well, and I appreciate your letting me help Angela fund the catered food. Those recipes were all authentic Polynesian dishes. I think Cam was sufficiently impressed to present this as a fundraising idea to the Jeffersonian board."

"I have to say, Bones, your hula dancer costume appears very authentic and intricate. If you were to give those board members a demonstration of your native dancing skills, I bet it would convince them. This is one time you were the best dancer there. I guess you learned some of those moves during your tropical digs, huh?"

He suddenly noticed that Brennan had disappeared down the hall. "Bones, where'd you go?"

"Why don't you come see?" his wife called seductively. He reached the hall door and his jaw dropped. Brennan was halfway down the upstairs hall, lounging up against the door frame of Parker's room. She swiveled her hips suggestively, turned around to smile at him, and sashayed toward their bedroom "I've been told I'm quite alluring, Booth."

Booth let out a long whistle. "Bones, I'm right behind ya'. Gypsy Rose got nothin' on you! You were holding out on me during that dance competition case! You've aced those native dances; Wow!"


	50. Chapter 50 Moon

Chapter 50 Moon

Booth knew that his Bones had loved star-gazing ever since Max had taken his small daughter out to their backyard after dark and settled in one of their reclining lawn chairs with her in his lap.

Her father had leaned back, pulling Tempe gently down onto his chest and pointed upward to the sky.

"Look up at the moon, Tempe. It's very big tonight. See that really bright star, honey? It's the North Star. It helped sailors find their way home out on the ocean far away from land. Now if you look there, there, and there, you'll see some other stars that make a pan like your mom cooks macaroni in. Can you see the handle? That's called 'the Big Dipper.' "

"Wow, Daddy, there are so many! How do you tell them apart?" the little girl had asked in wonder.

"Tempe, a long time ago, some wise men called astronomers named the stars and looked at the designs they made in the sky. They decided to sketch the pictures they form, and name those too. The pictures are called constellations, and they gave people a way to kind of organize the stars, like a big puzzle," her dad had explained.

One Christmas when he had enough money, Max had purchased a telescope using his teacher's discount. Rather than choosing a child's telescope, he had selected one with higher resolution so they could see the stars more clearly. Russ had never had the patience for this hobby, but Tempe loved it as much as he did.

It just so happened that when Booth was young, 5 or 6 years old, he guessed, his father had not yet been so haunted by memories and demons from Vietnam. He vividly remembered lying out in the grass on an old quilt with his dad, finding the man-in-the-moon's face and watching the stars. He'd had trouble visualizing the constellations, but his father had patiently calmed his frustrations, urged him to settle down and look around, and all of a sudden, Seeley saw them too.

Looking back, he marveled at the peaceful memory, so different from the painful abusive years that came shortly thereafter when his father started drinking more and more. Star-gazing was a past pleasure from childhood which he shared with Bones.

With Bone's birthday coming up again, Booth delightedly realized he'd found the perfect gift for his favorite scientific genius. He had been carefully socking away some money each payday for many months, and had finally saved enough to fulfill his goal of surprising her. Parker was spending the next weekend with them, so Booth texted his son about his plan. The boy was excited to shop for a telescope for Bones. It would be hard to say which Booth loved Temperance Brennan more. Different types of love, certainly, but equally intense.

The critical purchase made, Booth and Parker secreted the telescope in the garage behind a tarp. The two males baked a very respectable cake that Saturday afternoon while Brennan was communing with a skeletal World War I veteran at the Jeffersonian. When they heard her key turn in the front door, they raced each other to stand in the entry hall.

"Surprise!" they yelled at her in unison. Brennan dropped the messenger bag she had just slipped off her shoulder and jumped back a foot.

"Are you two trying to metaphorically shorten my lifespan from shock?" she inquired, frowning slightly.

"Nope, Bones, it's your birthday celebration!" Booth exclaimed with the glee of a five-year-old.

Parker took her arm and pulled her toward the dining table where balloons were tied to her chair.

Christine was already seated in her high chair, confused by the noise, but smiling nevertheless.

"We made your favorite spaghetti and sauce, and a chocolate cake!" Parker said proudly.

"And a nice ruffly green salad with grape tomatoes, shallots and croutons," added Booth, pulling out her chair.

The meal complete, Booth and son disappeared out the back door after demanding that Temperance

stay put and close her eyes. A few minutes later, they re-entered the dining room, carrying a lengthy

box between them, draped in the tarp.

"They don't make wrapping paper this big," said Booth, "so just pull that baby off!"

Brennan did so, and gasped in surprise. "Oh, Booth! Parker! How did you guess? I've wanted one of

these for years! They're quite expensive, and since I had access to the Jeffersonian's observatory, I never felt I could justify getting one for home." Happy tears glistened in her eyes.

Parker and Booth carefully assembled the telescope's base while Brennan dressed Christine for bed. She got an old quilt from the closet and descended the stairs with Christine in her arms, the quilt tucked against her chest. The family went out into the back yard; Parker carrying the base, his dad handling the delicate optical tube. Leaving the telescope components on the porch table, Booth took the quilt and spread it on the moon-lit grass.

The four of them stretched out on their backs, faces to the sky. Christine didn't comprehend what she was seeing, but the excitement of the others had her pointing all the same.

After 15 minutes, Booth carried his restless fussy tired toddler upstairs and tucked her into bed with a quick rendition of Good Night, Moon, her favorite lullaby, and the purple elephant which Bones still complained about as hopelessly inaccurate. He checked the night light, walked to the window, and gazed down at Brennan and his son. The two of them were both pointing upward, talking animatedly.

Once he was back downstairs, Booth moved the table to the edge of the porch and set up the telescope.

One look at Brennan's face made all the pie he had passed up at the diner worthwhile. He'd convinced her he was watching his weight, having learned as a kid that saving little amounts can accrue impressively over time.

He'd barely tightened the clamps to hold the optical tube in its clamps when she pressed her eye to the lense. "Oh, Booth….this is just….amazing….as good as I remember with Dad….just look at Venus, Parker!" And she moved away to let the boy take a look.

"Show him the moon's swiss cheese," Booth suggested playfully. Brennan turned around and gave him her best school-marm frown, then realized he was teasing her and kissed him instead.

"That's one of the best birthday gifts I've ever received. How long have you been planning this?"

"Oh, the better part of a year," Booth smiled, drawing her into a hug and rubbing her back gently.

"I'm so glad you like it."

"Dad, look, I found Mars!" Parker exclaimed. "We've been studying astronomy in science class and they are closer together right now than they've been since

September 2008 or will be again until October 2017," he informed them happily.

"You've been paying attention in class, huh, Bud? I'm proud of you," his dad smiled.

"Parker, I'm impressed, it's not easy to re-focus a telescope even if you move it only slightly," Brennan praised him.

"Our teacher borrowed a simulator from the University of Maryland and showed us how to track the planets. They have an observatory at College Park."

Okay, Parks, time to go inside. We can star gaze again tomorrow night since you have a school holiday on Monday," Booth told his son.

Later that night, entwined in Booth's strong arms, Brennan sighed deeply.

"Is that a sigh of satisfaction or distress?" Booth inquired gently.

"Happiness, Booth, so much satisfaction….thank you, it was a perfect birthday. I'm over the moon about my new telescope!" she said mischievously.

"Good one, Bones!" and he kissed her.


	51. Chapter 51 Completion

Chapter 51 Completion

**A/N:** It is ironic and completely coincidental that my last chapter prompt is Completion. I chose War as the first because I had a soldier friend on my mind who's been through a rough patch, and Booth's military experiences struck a chord. I didn't peruse the list to see what words preceded or followed it. Now as I'm writing this last chapter, an elderly relative, age 94, is in the hospital. While her 'flight to glory' may not be imminent; after visiting her last night, I found myself thinking about Ralph Waite, whose demise (both real and TV) has been a recent sadness for many people. And that, of course, made me think of Pops. Ironic that the timing of fan fiction has mirrored that of life. And no, I don't, never did, and sadly, never will own Bones.

I'm borrowing a little from FaithinBones' and Penandra's _Castor and Pollux_ here, as well as Dharmamonkey's _Killing_ _Two_ _Birds._

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Henry Booth straightened up slowly and pressed his hand flat against the small of his back. Jackson Gibbs rose from his haunches, knees creaking, and did the same. Seeley Booth and Jethro Gibbs observed their two elderly relatives and grinned at each other wryly, as they brushed the brick dust from their pants and gloves. The four men stood back and admired their masonry repairs in Jackson Gibbs' backyard.

"Well, Jack, I'd say we fixed up your barbeque pit pretty much as good as new," Pops said to his twin brother. "That looks like a job well-done."

"Yup, it looks almost as good as the last time you and Margaret visited. Sure couldn't have done it without your help, Hank," responded Gibbs' dad. "I'm glad it's finished. I haven't been able to use it for several years and there's nothing I love better than a prime-grade grilled steak!"

"Oh, I don't know, Shrimp here built a barbeque pit for some British psychologist who worked for the FBI awhile back. The guy left to become a chef, and he invited us over for steaks. I got to see Seeley's brick work, and I gotta tell you, he did a bang-up job. You could'a just called him to come up from D.C. and he've had it done by Monday! But I'm glad you asked me to help out."

"Shrimp?" Gibbs mouthed silently to Booth, who shrugged sheepishly and grinned. "Like you didn't have any embarrassing nicknames as a kid?"

"Oh, yeah, but I'm not revealin' 'em here," Gibbs declared. "And so you know, I was named for my dad's best friend who was in the Army with him. They started the general store here in Stillwater together. He was a great guy and I looked up to him, but you try going through life with a name like 'Leroy Jethro'!"

"Now Son, don't you go running down your name! You were named after an honorable man, and that's nothing to sneeze at!" Jackson sputtered.

"I know, Dad, but I've gotten some funny looks when people hear my name. It's not exactly in the top ten most popular boys' names of all times."

"Well, what your namesake stood for is more important than what he was called!" Jackson declared.

"Okay, you two, that's enough, you sound like teenagers," Hank laughed. "Gibbs, I know your dad showed you how to cook, and my grandson's a pretty fair pitmaster. Who's going to get these steaks going on the grill? I'm getting hungry!"

"Booth, can you get the coals lit while I pull the steaks out of the fridge?" Gibbs asked. "By the way, why were you building a barbeque pit for an Englishman?"

Booth rolled his eyes. "I shot my gun at an ice cream truck's clown head decoration 'cause the idiot wouldn't shut off his raucous music so I could listen for a suspect's car. The FBI put me on modified duty and made me go through counseling to get my gun back. You can imagine how much I wanted to do that, but I had no choice. Gordon Gordon invited me to come to his house for the first session, and it was a lot more relaxed helping him build that grill than sitting in his office in my suit. He's a down-to- earth guy and it wasn't so bad. Actually I called him when I got back from Afghanistan and he helped me deal with some issues from that hellhole. Even Bones likes him and she despises psychology. I think you'd like him too."

"Me like a shrink? That'll be the day," muttered Gibbs. And speaking of strange names, what kind of a parent names their kid Gordon Gordon? Sounds like mumbo-jumbo."

"Well, the British use family names and surnames for their kids' given names, and he got stuck with a very long one. Said that's what he's always gone by. We'll see soon enough if you like him, because he's coming up for dinner with Bones and the Hodgins."

"Hmmm, my team ought to be getting here pretty soon, if they know what's good for them. Your Brit friend will probably hit it off with our M.E. Ducky. He's from Scotland."

"Ducky? These names just keep getting weirder and weirder. Our friends aren't the only ones, yours too." Booth said.

"Dr. Donald Mallard," Gibbs stated with a flourish of his hand and a formal air.

"Oh, now it makes sense," Booth replied.

"Will you two PLEASE quit yammerin' and get our steaks ready?" Jack and Hank demanded in unison.

"Guess we better get to it!" Gibbs said to Booth.

"You steaks, me charcoal…Got it!" Booth replied. "I'm glad we got them together for this, you know? No telling how long they've each got left down here. You had a good idea, inviting us to help repair the charcoal pit. Pops has never been one to sit still and I daresay your dad is the same. Kept them busy and let them remember stuff together. Might be their last time to see each other."

"Yeah, you never know. We ought to get them together more often, I think. I don't know what I'll do when that time comes, but I sure don't look forward to it," Gibbs said quietly.

"Me neither, Pops has been so much to me. It'll be rough. I'm kinda glad we got to know each other after all these years. Bones would say that anthropologically we can help each other through it because we've had parallel experiences, or something sciency like that."

"I'm looking forward to seeing her again…..I think that's them pulling in now. It's about time. Somebody else needs to entertain these two while we do the cooking."

**A/N Postscript**: This is my first foray into prose writing. The experience of producing a story daily for 50 days has been challenging, but the presence of a prompt word has been surprisingly helpful in sparking inspiration. Otherwise, I think I'd be waiting around for my muse/brain/imagination to concoct an idea. I've been touched and amazed by how many kind reviews I've received, and can't ever thank the folks who wrote them enough. They served as quite a great motivation to keep going. Not sure when the writing fairy will strike again, but keep an eye open, I'm not going anywhere.


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